


A Change of Faces

by assassinistress



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: (Counter) terrorism, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Assassin Training, CIA, Drug Use, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Mindfuck, Modern Assassins, Politics, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Sexual Violence, Slow Build, The House of Black and White
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2018-12-26 15:16:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 79,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12061620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/assassinistress/pseuds/assassinistress
Summary: Arya works for a special counter terrorism unit of the CIA. She is recruited to go undercover to gather intel on a dangerous assassin who is a supposed key-figure in an underground terrorist network. Her colleague Gendry and her mentor Luwin are on her team and assist her in bringing in this enemy of the state. But when her undercover mission goes wrong things take a different turn.Modern version with characters of GOT.





	1. The promotion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Winterlyn_Dow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterlyn_Dow/gifts), [Darling_Ghost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darling_Ghost/gifts).



> This is my first time writing and posting something so be gentle please. I am not an English native so if you spot mistakes please let me know, your help is much appreciated!  
> I got inspired by several stories on this site (among others but mostly: The Assassin's Apprentice by Winterlyn_Dow and Superior by Darling_Ghost , thank you guys for giving me that push to give it a go myself.

Arya groaned as her hand swatted around in search of the snooze button on her alarm clock. From under her blankets she cracked one eye open and peeked at the clock. She grimaced, groaned and kicked the blankets away. It was 05:25, if she’d hit the snooze button one more time she would surely be late for her new position at work on the first day, that would not do. 

Legs dangling over the side of the bed she stretched herself extensively making more irritated noises before getting up from the bed and padding in the direction of the shower. As she passed the mirror she moaned again looking at her messy hair and puffy eyes. She had gone to bed too late after having a drink or two too many with her colleague Gendry the previous night to celebrate her promotion. Sometimes she wondered why she had taken up the position that now caused her to get up so early in the first place. She was a night person and enjoyed staying up late. She enjoyed the peace and quit of the night and could concentrate better in the cool of night than during the hot summer days in Washington but now her new job was going to prevend her from leading this preferred lifestyle. 

Arya had obtained her bachelor's degree and had been working as an intern of criminal investigations at the Directorate of Operations at the CIA obtaining more experience focused on complex matters and narcotics at the Crime and Narcotic Center (CNC). She had had special training as an undercover agent and had successfully brought in several drug related offenders under which a couple of key-figures of cartels and international networks.  
A year prior she had completed the Criminal Investigator Training Program at the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center and had recently been promoted to the Counter Terrorism Center (CTC) due to her excellent performance record. 

It wasn’t until the cold water hit her that she really woke up. “Jesussssss” she hissed through clenched teeth as she quickly turned on the hot water aswell. She knew this was the only way to wake her head up with the rest of her body or she’d be spending her first day walking around like a zombie. She let the now warm water wash over her body as she let her mind slip back to previous evening.

Gendry was a good 7 years older than Arya and had been working at the CTC for 2 years now. She had known him before that though, since they were working in the same building and regularly ran into each other at work. He was not uncomely, he had a good body with broad shoulders and a ruggedly handsome face but what stood out most were his bright blue eyes under his dark brown eyebrows and dark mop of hair. Arya had always had a hunch that Gendry might be interested in her but he had never really been obvious or outspoken about it. Arya could not be sure but since she had resolved that she would not start a relationship with anyone at work, when he had asked her to have a drink to celebrate, she had put it off at first. 

“Oh come on Stark, if not with a bit of fun and a couple of beers, how do you guys celebrate things up North?” 

He had said pointing out that his origins lay further to the South of the country.

She paused a bit and then gave in 

“Ah what the hell” she had said, “Let’s go then, but you drive. I will teach you how us folk celebrate up North.” 

Gendry smiled a broad smile at her and swung his coat over his shoulder.  
“That’s the spirit” he said as they walked towards his car. 

A 15 minute drive landed them in front of a pub called ‘Dryden’s Den’, it was an old pub, and not in a ‘hip’ kind of way, where both of them would hang out after work for some burgers and beer some times mostly as a bigger group or with colleagues of their own their department. They found a place at the end of the bar and ordered their drinks. 

“You excited to start?” Gendry asked as he leaned casually against the bar. 

“I guess so” Arya replied “but I am afraid that getting up two hours earlier from now on might take it’s toll on my mood after a couple of days, I’m not much of a morning person.”

Gendry grinned “I have noticed that” he said.

“Noticed what?” Arya asked raising an eyebrow. 

“Noticed you are not a morning person” 

Arya gave him a confused look so he elaborated; 

“Two days ago I bid you a good morning but you walked straight passed me without even noticing me standing there.” He took a draught of his beer. 

“Really? Hm, I’m sorry then, I was not ignoring you or anything, I really didn’t hear you I guess.” 

She absentmindedly stared ahead of her trying to remember the moment but didn’t recall anything like that happening. 

“I don’t even remember seeing you that morning honestly” she admitted. 

“Hm”, Gendry said, “I have not made a very strong impression I see, but honestly with your new job one might expect you to be a bit more observant, even before midday.” 

She knew he was just teasing her but he did however have a point. She had been trained to spot infinitismal details and record them in her memory. Not only missing him speaking to her but also not being able to recall seeing him altogether seemed kind of heedless. Maybe she would have to talk to her new mentor Mr. Luwin about the starting times. Making mistakes in this line of work could cause lives and that was not something she’d like to have on her conscience. She decided to worry about this later and turned her attention back to her colleague. 

Gendry was from a neighborhood called Fleabottom somewhere South of the capital. She had heard about the place and knew people there were not as well off as the rest of the people living in the biggest city of the country. Fleabottom was a one of the poorer neighborhoods and it surprised her that Gendry’s family had been able to send him to a well-established university. The CIA selected it’s people with extreme care and only from renowned universities and such schools would be hard to afford for a simple family from Fleabottom. 

“I lived alone with my mom, not that I saw her much, she was always out doing I don’t know what actually. I have been taking care of me’self for as long as I can remember.” 

He took a long swig from his almost empty tankard. 

“How did you end up with the CIA?” Arya asked him wording her thoughts.

Gendry finished his beer and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Looking at him doing that, it was not hard to imagine him a Fleabottom youngster though he had assimilated to the organisation surprisingly well so that in normal life you would hardly suspect him not being from the center. He had even altered his way of speaking a bit to mask his low provenance. But now after a couple of beers his accent had slowly started to slip through his speech and gave away his origin. 

“I’ve never known me’ dad, not that ‘aey missed ‘im, but aparently at some point he found his sense of responsibbility and started to send my mother money. Part of it went to whatever wrong habits she ‘ad but there was still enough to send me to University. Never seen the old man though, just the money. He didn’t even bother to come bring it ‘imself.” 

Gendry held up the tankard indicating to the barman that he wanted another beer. 

“Well with the money at least he did one thing right.” 

Gendry scratched his head and grimaced. “Enough about me, what about you Stark?” 

She didn’t like it when he called her that. She knew her new colleague didn’t mean anything by it but it made her feel dependent on her family name. Arya had been well off as the youngest daughter of the Stark family. Her father Eddard had taken over the imperium of his father and later married Catelyn Tully, a woman with respectable background of her own. Maybe it was because of their wealth that her parents had decided to have 5 children instead of the more usual 2. She also had a half-brother, Jon. Her mother wasn’t fond of him because he reminded her of her husband’s infidelity. Arya however had always found it hard to believe her father to be capable of betraying her mother, of all the couples she had seen in her life, her parents always seemed to have the most perfect marriage of them all. Despite the usual struggles one might expect living in a large family, she had been happy. Until the day her father died.

Arya had been living on her own since she was 17. After her father died when she was 11, she had had a difficult time. It had been hard on the whole family but with his unexpected death, Arya had not only lost her father but also her possibility to make her own choices. She continued to live in Winterfell in the house where she grew up. But as the years passed, living with her mother Catelyn, sister Sansa and two younger brothers Brandon and Rickon became harder. Catelyn had never gotten over the sudden loss and hitting puberty Arya had developed a lifestyle for herself so different than that of her siblings that it constantly caused friction between her and the two other Stark women in the household.  
Arya had always relied on her father to convince Catelyn that working with a special crime unit was an actual career path and one that, even at her young age, she was determined to take. Catelyn had deemed it a job unsuitable for women and pushed her youngest daughter to make a career as a laboratory technician, doctor or pharmacist which were, according to her, more decent jobs for a young lady. But Arya had made up her mind the only thing that was standing in her way of becoming a criminal officer was her incapacity to convince her mother.  
If not her father, her favorite half-brother Jon would have put in a good word for her but since he was not Catelyn’s favorite son (due to the fact that he wasn’t her son at all) he rarely succeeded to change her mind. Further more Jon had gone on a trip around the world, which was his way of dealing with the loss, and had not returned back home for more than a couple of weeks at a time. Her oldest brother Robb was married and had his own family living in Switzerland.  
To avoid conflict and to be able to take control over her life she had decided to move out and study at the university of Washington 400 miles away. The relationship between her and the rest of the remaining people in the Stark house got better after she moved out and whenever she returned to her parental house on holidays the atmosphere was bearable. She smiled when she thought about those holidays.

Oh shit! Arya thought as she woke up from her reverie with a start. The warm water had kind of lulled her back into a sort of slumber state and she had no idea how long she had been standing under the running water. She turned off the tap and quickly dried herself off while hopping around on one leg trying to check the clock on her bedside table. 05.49, damn it. Now she’d have to rush to be on time, no breakfast and no time for coffee, oh god how would she survive the day! She quickly slipped on pair of jeans over her still damp thighs and pulled a neat black top over her head. She brushed her hair and put on some mascara. Downstairs in the kitchen while looking for her car keys, she opened a cabinet, took a box out, shook some granola on her palm and threw it into her mouth. This would have to do. She grabbed her bag and headed out.  
It was only a 20 minute drive to her new department but she was starting at 06.30 and if there was any traffic she knew she wouldn’t make it on time. Luckily there wasn’t much traffic this early in the morning (the only positive thing she had to admit about her new starting time) and she came stumbling in at 06.26.


	2. A New Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya starts working at her newly aquired installment at the Counterterrorism Center of the CIA, she meets her mentor and he proposes her an interesting mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, since this is my first time posting anything on a FF website I had not expected 30 people to read the first chapter in half an hour <3 and even a kudos! I now feel confident to post another chapter :D 
> 
> Hope you like it!

Gendry was sitting behind his desk and grinned at her widely. “Wow Stark! I didn’t think you’d make it! 06.27 not bad for your first day.” 

He looked rather well slept and the hour didn’t seem to bother him at all. 

“You seem overly happy” Arya groaned and scowled at him. “Ulg, I need a coffee.” 

She plopped down in a chair behind what she gauged to be her new desk. 

“Better get that coffee quickly then, Luwin’s on his way already”. 

Randall Luwin was the head of the Counter Terrorism Center of the CIA. He was renowned for his torough working methods and was a respected man within the walls of the CIA. As head of the department he was also Arya’s new mentor. She had seen him a couple of times but had only spoken to him for the first time in the interview for her promotion. Luwin was a balding grey man with deep lines in his face. He was far over his retiring age but was very passionate about his job and seemed unable to find a more fulfilling pastime than working at his department. During the interview Arya had noticed he was extremely patient and very friendly, he didn’t however seem like the kind of man who would appreciate his subordinates being late or sloppy so in order to keep him happy she’d have to keep her head about her at all times. 

She noticed Gendry smirking at her from the corner of her eye. 

“Why don’t you make yourself useful and get me some coffee.” Arya groaned. 

She had put her head in her hands and had pulled her hair in front of her face.

Gendry cleared his throat, got up from his desk his eyes flashing in the direction of the door. 

“Morning Mr. Luwin.” Gendry said nodding his head. 

“Gendry” Luwin said as he gave him a curt nod. 

Arya shot up from her chair quickly raking her hands through her hair in order to look presentable. She had not seen or heard her new mentor come in. Luwin turned to Arya. 

“Good morning Miss Stark, welcome to the team, I see you found your new desk.” 

Luwin’s face looked serious but a half smile was tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

“Good morning Mr. Luwin” Arya mumbled a bit flustered looking at him while she straigtened her shirt with her hands. 

“I am sorry, I had planned to show you around today but I just received a phone call and I am needed at the department of international affairs within the hour. Gendry would you be so kind as to show Miss Stark the ropes today. I hope to be back by the evening.” 

Gendry nodded again in agreement to his task.  
“Maybe you could start by showing Miss Stark the coffee machine.” Luwin added as he turned to leave, a hint of a chuckle was audible in his voice. 

Arya cursed at herself for her state and the fact she just had been so blatantly called out on it by her new mentor.

Gendry waited until Luwin had turned the corner and then guffawed loudly.

“Well I didn’t make much of an impression on you a couple of days ago, but I’m sure you have made quite an impression on him!” 

Arya wanted to sneer at him but realized how silly the whole situation had become and burst into laughter. 

“Ohhhhhhh I am doomed if I have to get up this early from now on.” she half groaned – half laughed.

Gendry slapped her on the shoulder as he made for the door. 

“We’d better get to work then, you heard the boss, I’m to show you around.” 

He walked into the hallway with Arya on his heels. 

“By the way you look amazing today” he said looking over his shoulder nodding at her shirt. “that’s the new thing now isn’t it?” 

Arya gave him a simultaneously irritated and confused look. 

“Come on let’s go get you that coffee, you’re gonna need it” he laughed as he walked into the hall. 

Arya looked down at her shirt and saw it was inside out.

\-------

The first couple of weeks had been quite unexciting. Arya had mainly gone through files and had archived them to get a background into her new field. She had learned from her rather tough first day at work and now steadily went to bed before midnight. Although she liked the new job she had expected more from it. The cost of giving up her nightly lifestyle for a carreer as an upgraded desk clerk started to chafe her. It was time for some action. 

Her professional relationship with Gendry started to take form and they could get on well at the office though Arya deliberately kept her distance from him in her private life. Gendry had taken the hint and after some failed attempts to ask her out he conceded to the fact there wasn’t much chance in them developing much more than a platonic relationship. They had gone for a drink once or twice but when he dropped her off she was always quite clear on her ‘coming up for a drink’ policy.

Mr. Luwin had not been available much in the first week, then he had been there for her for the next but in the third week he had been called away again and the last time Arya had talked to him was 3 days ago. Today however he was in and had called her to his office. 

“Arya, how are you?” he had asked.

She was sitting down in a comfortable armchair across from his desk in his extremely tidy and well-organized office.

“Ahhh, good?” she said raising her eyebrows not entirely sure what to make of the question. 

“How do you like your new job so far?” Luwin inquired. 

He had called her here for a reason she was sure of it. She knew him to be too efficient for chit-chat so she decided to answer him truthfully. 

“To be honest Mr. Luwin I expected a bit more action. I mean, I don’t mean to be ungrateful, I know working for the CIA is not like in the movies but I have been archiving here for three weeks now. I was actually expecting a bit more fieldwork.” 

Luwin looked at her with his eyebrows raised. He rustled with a stack of papers on his desk. For a moment Arya was scared she had offended her mentor. She cleared her throat and swallowed. 

“Well,” Luwin started “they had told me you were frank.” A smile appeared on his face. “I am happy you are honest and to the point. It’s a hard trait to find in people nowadays.”

Arya looked at her montor a bit perplexed. 

“Ah, thank you I guess. Did you call me here for that sir?” she asked a bit dumbfounded.

Luwin’s face turned serious. “No, I called you here because I have a proposal, and it’s good that I have just learned how straight-forward you can be because I need you to be absolutely sure about this before you answer.” 

Arya’s attention was roused and she excitedly awaited clarification on what the proposal would entail. 

“Look Arya” Luwin said and his face showed a hint of bemusement. “We have sent for you and installed you in this department because of your excellent performances on the undercover cases you have done in the past. I wouldn’t select anyone else in their first month at this department to even be informed about this case. I would also not involve you if I didn’t think you were the best person for the job.” 

Arya had to do her best to hide her impatience and a hint of pride at his words, she nodded not taking her focus off his face as she awaited more information. 

“The last couple of weeks I have been called to the department of foreign affairs because we are working on an international case” Luwin coninued as he got up from his chair “The operation I am talking about will be an undercover operation and revolves around an extremely dangerous individual who is possibly linked to a terroristic cell.” 

Arya’s mouth fell open in disbelief. Were they asking her to go undercover in order to bring in an extremely dangerous terrorist who could be one of the key figures in an international terroristic cell? She stared down at the desk trying to digest the information.

Luwin noticed her incredulity, moved next to her and put a hand on her shoulder. 

“You will be briefed extensively before you will be asked to make a decision but I can not say this operation will be without risk.” 

Arya nodded. “I..... think I would like to know a bit more about it” she stammered dragging her eyes from the desk to Mr. Luwin’s.

“Of course” Luwin reassured her. “Tomorrow afternoon Mr. Javier Martell will be here to brief you, he is the head of the National Counterterrorism Center in Mexico. He will fly in first thing tomorrow morning from Monterrey where he is currently stationed. You can come in at 12.00, take the morning off, I need you here in my office at 13.00 bright eyed and bushy tailed.” 

Arya, not looking particularly bright eyed, just nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my first ever work.  
> As I am not experienced at writing and I am not a native speaker please help me out and give me some tips or if you spot a mistake let me know! 
> 
> All credits go to R.R. Martin for his amazing mind to come up with characters who we can play with later :)


	3. The Briefing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, thank you for reading the latest chapter! In this chapter I've introduced an actual existing person : Paul Ekman. I am doing this because he is the perfect person for the story. Though I am not 100% sure if this is ok. I would love to receive feedback of people who know more about this so that if I'm out of line here I can change the character. Though I hope people will get inspired and check out his work, maybe even book a course with his company or read one of his books. For more information check out: http://www.paulekman.com/. 
> 
> If I am doing something here that is wrong or against (moral) rules please let me know and I will change it! 
> 
> Ideas for the rest of the story of course are taken from the great R.R. Martin, we are forever thankful for your creative brain!
> 
>  
> 
> \-------

It had turned out to be a good thing Arya had the morning off because she had been too excited to sleep. Feelings of excitement and vacillation had been alternating in her head and she decided that she needed more information to form a level-headed decision. 

Javier Martell was sitting at the table across from her mentor and courteously got up from his seat when Arya walked in. He was foreign, early 40’s and probably Mexican, Argerntinean, Chillean or of some other Spanish descent because he spoke with a thick Spanish accent. His dark brown short hair, dark mustache and thin beard assented to the observation. 

“Hmmm” he said raising one eyebrow scanning her up and down “Luwin has told me his new apprentice is a fast learner, direct and feisty but he failed to mention that you are also a very beautiful young lady.” He spoke in his thick Spanish accent rolling the ‘r’ in the words.

Arya turned to Mr. Luwin eyebrows raised. He smiled and gave her a look that seemed to say - what can I do.

It happened to be true. When still in school her classmates used to tease her and call her Arya horse-face. Her sister Sansa had always been the pretty one, with her long auburn curls and milky white skin wearing delicate dresses, handbags and expensive jewlery. Everything about her was grace and Arya was just the opposite. She used to keep her hair short and behaved like a tom-boy causing her classmates to call her Arry instead of Arya but after her 16th birthday when her forms had started to fill out and she grew her hair long she had turned into a true beauty. Now at age 25 a woman grown slender and fit figure with long wavy dark brown hair, pale skin and big storm grey eyes she had become a real head-turner although she herself never really saw it that way. She didn’t care much about her looks and save from a bit of mascara never used make-up. It was not that she had low self-esteem; she just didn’t pay much mind to the superficial men who were interested in her.

And Javier’s evident flirtatious behavior clearly showed that he had taken a liking to Arya. Or maybe he was like this with every woman, she didn’t know and didn’t care either.

“If I have understood right you might be interested in becoming a hero” he joked extending his hand “Javier Martell, head of the National Counterterrorism Center Monterrey.”

“Arya Stark” she said returning a firm handshake. “If I’ve understood right you are here to brief me on this case.” she replied sharply putting him in his place instead of playing along with his familiarity. 

It was Javier’s turn to look at Luwin with a surprised expression. “Spunky indeed.” he said with evident mirth in his voice. “Very well, I will cut to the case.” 

Javier took a file out of his suitcase and opened it on Luwin’s desk. He took out a picture and wacked it down in front of Arya. It was an unclear picture presumably taken with a hidden camera. It showed a tall man, certainly not unattractive, in his early forties wearing a suit. He had short dark blond hair, bright blue eyes and looked European. 

“For the last 3 years we have been following a man who calls himself Jaqen H’ghar. We think he might be the key figure in a terrorist network behind several attacks trying to bring down the government. The man is a mystery though and we keep losing track of him. In the last three years we have sightings of him in 5 different countries but every time we have something on him he seems to go up in smoke.” 

Arya started rummaging through the paperwork in the file and pulled out an autopsy report.

“What’s this?” she asked scanning the pages.

“Mr H’ghar happens to be a master assassin. He has formidable sniper skills, a distinct knowledge of other ranged weapons and is equally lethal in close combat which makes us think he has been in a special unit of the army at some point but we somehow still have not been able to verify this.” Javier replied with a trace of irritation noticable in his voice. It was clear he didn’t like the way this man kept himself out of every single record.

“His specialty however has turned out to be poison. This man…” Javier pointed at the picture in the file Arya was holding “was Amram Kravitz, the first commander of Yamas, the Israeli counter-terror undercover unit working directly under the Israel Security Agency; Shin Bet. He was found dead poisoned with a concoction that is traceable in the blood but is extremely hard to compile. He used it deliberately and left it as a kind of signature on the body.” 

Arya let her eyes glide over the long list of rare ingredients that had been used to brew the poison.

“This incident is not recent and we found no trace of him afterwards.”

Arya cocked her head and assessed the foreign chief of counterterrorism. 

“But we wouldn’t be here if you didn’t have a lead right now.” 

“No flaquita, you are right” 

Arya bristled at the hypocorism.

Javier continued “Just two days ago we discovered a piece of very valuable information that has proven to check out; Our suspect has studied under psychologist Dr. Paul Ekman at the University of California in 1991, which makes him a master in reading people’s faces. A trait that will complicate our undercover mission considerably.”

Javier waited for Arya to speak but when she just stared ahead of her absorbed in thought he decided to elucidate mistaking her contemplation for unfamiliarity with the subject.

“Paul Ekman is the founder of the Paul Ekman Group; an organization that develops and offers online emotional skills-building programs such as the Micro Expression Training Tool and….” 

“I know who he is, I’ve read his book Telling Lies.” Arya interrupted Javier absentmindedly. “Have you spoken with Mr. Ekman?” 

“We have, on the phone and he remembers Jaqen well, though Ekman knows him only under the alias Thomas Weber. Right now Mr. Ekman is our most prominent source of information. He has already consented to cooperate.”

“Where in this whole story do I come in?” Arya asked turning to the two men.

Javier paused for a second and then blurted out.  
“Look, I could turn this whole thing into a romantic story but what it comes down to is that we want you to somehow get close to this man, infiltrate into the cell and steal information that may be useful to us to eliminate them.” 

Arya who had been rubbing her eye uptil that moment froze mid-action. Then slowly dropped her hand and stared at Javier with an incredulous expression. She then turned to Luwin whose face mimicked her own. 

“Hey, I thought I’d just get to the point.” Javier grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, thank you for reading the latest chapter! In this chapter I've introduced an actual existing person : Paul Ekman. I am doing this because he is the perfect person for the story. Though I am not 100% sure if this is ok. I would love to receive feedback of people who know more about this so that if I'm out of line here I can change the character. Though I hope people will get inspired and check out his work, maybe even book a course with his company or read one of his books. For more information check out: http://www.paulekman.com/. 
> 
> If I am doing something here that is wrong or against (moral) rules please let me know and I will change it! 
> 
> Ideas for the rest of the story of course are taken from the great R.R. Martin, we are forever thankful for your creative brain!


	4. The Art Of Deception

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT NOTE: I am using the information of an existing person Paul Ekman and information that I have taken from his website and wikipedia.  
> *1 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wizards_Project  
> *2 taken from http://www.paulekman.com/micro-expressions/
> 
> The information in the rest of the dialogues is made up by me and is not necissarily true. 
> 
> If you in any way got inspired and want to learn more about Dr. Paul Ekman, micro-expressions or any books by Paul Ekman please visit the website of the Paul Ekman Group http://www.paulekman.com/
> 
> If I am doing something wrong here in using the name and info of an actual person please give me a heads up so I can change my work but I myself am interested in Ekman's work and hope to inspire others too by using his info.
> 
>  
> 
> \----

Even though the operation would probably put Arya at conciderable risk. She had decided it would exceed the drudgery of reading and filing cases and if she was totally honest she was also flathered that out of all the possible candidates for this mission they had chosen her for the job. The fact that she would get to do the undercover field work that had led her into this line of work in the first place also aided her decision. 

Today she was to meet Dr. professor Paul Ekman. 

Arya had prepared herself for the meeting by reading another one of Dr. Ekman’s works; Emotions Revealed and had done some research on his person. She felt excited that with this mission she could concurrently learn something that had interested her for years. 

Paul Ekman was an affable grey man in his eighties and Arya immediately felt welcome when he opened the door of his office and invited her in. He had already been informed by Luwin on why the girl was there and what was expected from them in the little time they would have so when she had settled in a comfortable armchair with a latte he didn’t waste their time.

Ekman told her that he originally wanted to be a psychotherapist, but that in 1958 after being drafted into the army, he found that research could change army routines, making them more humane which led him to become a researcher rather than a psychotherapist. 

At the young age of 29 he had received a grant from the National Institute of Mental Health and studied nonverbal behavior as principal investigator, he did this until he was offered a professorship at the University of California in San Francisco in 1972 where he shifted his focus from body movement to facial expressions it was there and then when he met the young Jaqen H’ghar then known to him as Thomas Weber. 

Ekman opened a drawer from his desk and produced an envelope. 

“I have gone through the archives and found something that might be valuable for your investigation.” 

Arya took the envelope and opened it. Inside was a picture of a young Tomas Weber wearing a red T-shirt smoking a cigarette and holding up one outstretched hand to the camera unsuccessfully trying to prevent the picture from being taken. The boyish but handsome young man looked like he could be around Arya’s age, he had a typical Aryan Germanic look, short light brown hair and bronze skin. But what stood out most were his bright blue eyes. They were almond shaped and the way he looked made Arya feel like the man in the picture was not just staring at her from the photograph but could actually see inside of her mind. She gazed at the photograph mesmerized until Dr. Ekman’s voice snapped her out of her reverie.

“I don’t understand how a man like that could possibly turn into a terrorist. He was one of my best students eager to learn, smart, polite and extremely disciplined.” He old man shook his head. “Such a shame.” 

Arya realized that Ekman harbored warm feelings towards his old student and that he must have been, or at least must have seemed to be a good person back then.

“Dr. Ekman, can you please tell me more about Thomas?” She deliberately used the name he had used for himself at that time to gain more information about the person Jaqen H’ghar used to be. 

“Thomas was 24 when he started his courses with me. He just walked in one day, came up to my desk and told me he wanted to learn everything I had to teach. I was reluctant at first but he just kept coming back every day for weeks until I finally gave in. The boy had amazing persistence. When I finally assented he didn’t disappoint. He was a fast learner and did a lot research on his own which he then showed and discussed with me. His English was fluent but he had a slight German sounding accent, which was probably his native language and he was studying French at the time. He was a thinker, not a talker and I don’t know much about his private life.” Dr. Ekman smiled. “ Girls were lining up for him but he never showed any interest.” 

Arya let her eyes wander over the picture again. I understand what those girls saw in him she thought looking at the ruggedly handsome boy.

“The thing is that he was learning from me but also with me making him a master not only at reading any human emotion without effort but also manipulating his own. Come to think of it I have never been able to catch him in a lie if he didn’t mean for me to.” 

Arya had put the picture down and listened to the professor intently. 

“I understand from your mentor that you are to meet him in person and lie your way into his circle. Honestly girl, even if you are a born liar, you don’t stand a chance, he will see straight through you and if he is really as sinister as they say you will put yourself in danger.”

Arya understood and deep down inside also shared his concern.

“You seem like a nice enough girl” Ekman said with a worried look on his face “are you sure you want to do this?” 

“I am” Arya replied and she almost convinced herself.

Mr. Ekman gave her a somewhat sad smile “You seem to forget what you are here for and why. You are not sure at all and you just gave me over seventeen pieces of proof for it.”

Arya grimaced. The man could read her like a book. “You are right of course Mr. Ekman, but also that you know. Please can you help me?”

He got up and started pacing the room. “I understand that we don’t have much time, a week and a half or less. But what I can do is give you a specialized course in micro-expressions and deception to counteract his manipulation, teach you how to read his face and how to rule yours to make it harder for him to read you, though this will be anything but easy.”

“You see, out of the 20,000 people we’ve tested in a project we now call the Wizards Project, back then we called it the Diogenes Project, only 50 people had the ability to spot deception without any formal training in micro-expression. These naturals are also known as "Truth Wizards", or wizards of deception detection from demeanor. Thomas was one of them.” (*1)

“Micro expressions are facial expressions that occur within 1/25th of a second. They are involuntary and expose a person’s true emotions. They can happen as a result of conscious suppression or unconscious repression. These facial expressions are universal, meaning they occur on everyone around the world. Everyone flashes micro expressions and no one can hide them. When someone conceals an emotion, “leakage” often occurs on that person’s face. In other words, micro expressions often flash across their face without their knowledge.” (*2)

Arya had learned about micro-expressions extensively in the books she had read on the subject but hearing it from the source was so captivating to her that all she could do was focus and listen to her new mentor breathlessly. 

“The thing that makes it harder for both of us is that I expect that Thomas has not just learned to rule his face, he went further than that and started to rule his emotions meaning that the chance of leakage is reduced to a minimum because he is forcing his emotions to be in correspondence with his face. He is not suppressing or repressing his emotions but rather erases them all together.” Dr. Ekman paused. “Psychopaths and savants don’t really feel emotions like other people do and therefore hardly show emotional leakage of feelings like guilt, remorse or empathic feelings” 

“Are you saying he is a psychopath?” Arya said with a hint of concern in her voice.

“No, I’ve known Thomas for four years, he’s not a psychopath, nor is he autistic.” 

“But if he can control his emotions and there is no emotinal leakage, how am I ever to know if what he tells me is true.” Arya contemplated out loud.

“The only moment a person like this will slip up is if you break his emotional concentration. In other words move him so he will let his mask slip and show you leakage of his true emotions, the ones he can not control.”

“How?”

“Well” Dr. Ekman frowned not sure how to put his next words the right way. “Thomas is a man, and you are...well ah.... an attractive young lady. Lust is a very strong basic instinct that is hard to suppress, so are anger and fear. Provoked in the right way there is a chance you can break through his emotional shield.”

Arya looked at the old professor incredulously.

“I’m merely stating this is one of the very strong basic instincts.” Ekman quickly added. “As I said before, getting this close will surely put you at a considerable risk, one mistake, one slip up and it will take mere minutes for him to get to the bottom of who you really are and why you are there with him. I would advise against it all together.” 

“Please Dr. Ekman I have made my decision, I want to learn everything you have to teach me. I truly believe I can do this.” 

Her words reminded him of his old apprentice who was now on a wanted list.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT NOTE: I am using the information of an existing person Paul Ekman and information that I have taken from his website and wikipedia.  
> *1 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wizards_Project  
> *2 taken from http://www.paulekman.com/micro-expressions/
> 
> The information in the rest of the dialogues is made up by me and is not necissarily true. 
> 
> If you in any way got inspired and want to learn more about Dr. Paul Ekman, micro-expressions or any books by Paul Ekman please visit the website of the Paul Ekman Group http://www.paulekman.com/
> 
> If I am doing something wrong here in using the name and info of an actual person please give me a heads up so I can change my work but I myself am interested in Ekman's work and hope to inspire others too by using his info.


	5. A Place and a Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See notes for the previous chapter about using actual human being Paul Ekman for my story. Hope he doesn't mind :)
> 
>  A short chapter before Arya finally gets to meet Jaqen, or does she?
> 
> \----

Over the next couple of days at the PEG center Paul Ekman became like a doting grandfather to Arya. The 84 year old grey doctor with his friendly features and the young apprentice spent hours together going through hundreds of examples of micro-expressions, watching interviews, having long conversations where Arya was to determine whether Dr. Ekman was speaking the truth or a lie and her explaining how she came to her conclusions.

Ekman in his turn would try to put her off-track by throwing in false emotions or displaying no emotion at all so she would have to ask him the right questions or provoke him to cause him to leak emotion.

A couple of days after the start of her training she went to the interrogation unit of the local district’s bureau. She was sat behind a one-way mirror at police interrogations to tell if the suspect was telling the truth or was being deceitful by looking at his posture, non-verbal bodily communication but especially the micro-expressions flashing across his face. Arya turned out to be a natural mastering the skills she had learned only days ago and singled out almost every lie. She proved to be so successful that one of the chief officers of the department told her that if she ever needed a job, she’d be more than welcome to join the team.

Whenever Arya wasn’t working on honing her newly acquired counter deception skills she was training with Dean, a special ops commando sent to teach her, among other things, how to handle herself in close combat, disarm a man, assemble and use firearms and break free from restraint. Things she had generally learned during her training before she joined the CIA but this training was something else entirely. She sometimes felt like she had chosen to join the army instead of taking on an undercover mission with the way Dean was barking at her. It was not that he was unfriendly, outside of training he was a pussy cat, but he took training Arya very serious and made the situations feel very real. At the end of the day she could count her newly aquired bruises and her muscles ached but she felt more alive than when she had been filing back at the office.

Days were long and emotionally and physically straining and often times Arya would fall asleep seconds after she had put her head on the hotel pillow.

Eleven days of intense training went by before Arya received a phone call from her mentor calling her back to the office. The team had intercepted a phone call spoken in German placing Jaqen in Mexico City. They had a time and a location for that same night and a meeting needed to be set up.

\----

It was very early in the morning when Arya arrived at the office where she was greeted by Javier and Mr. Luwin. Just a little bit more of this getting up so damn early she thought dragging her suitcase behind her. She hadn’t even been to her appartment but had come straight to the office from the airport.

“Good morning Arya, congratulations on your progress, Dr. Ekman and Dean have briefed me and they both told me that you have made amazing improvement. How do you feel about your training yourself?” Luwin asked her putting a hand on her shoulder.

“It was pretty intense for sure but I feel good about the training. I have the feeling I have learned more in these eleven days than I could have in a year. I feel ready for this.” She answered him confidently.

Luwin looked at her seriously and his look gave away a hint of bemusement.

“Arya, you have told us when you agreed to take on this mission that you realize that you might have to establish an intimate bond with the suspect, as it looks now this will be sooner rather than later, you know it’s a bit late but you can still back out. If you are somehow not sure….” Luwin began but Arya interrupted him.

“No really Mr. Luwin, I feel ready. Of course it will be a risk, it always is. It always was in my previous undercover missions but this is part of the job and I am ready for it.”

Luwin nodded not completely convinced but headed for the door. “Alright, Javier will you please brief miss Stark about the mission.” Something clearly seemed to worry him as he closed the door behind him.

Javier, who was seated behind one of the computers pulled up a chair and motioned for Arya to sit down next to him.

“You look tired flaquita.” He teased with his thick Spanish accent and a smug grin.

“I _am_ tired and when I am tired I am not in my best of moods so brief me quick so that I can go home and get some rest before we do this thing.” Arya said with a bored but slightly agitated undertone, not caring to engage in a quarrel with her new colleague. She plopped down in the chair.

Javier just grinned. He was testing, teasing and provoking her.

“You are even cuter when you are angry, you know that right?” he joked still wearing his smug grin that seemed somehow plastered to his smug face.

Arya sighed.

“Alright” Javier cut the japing and turned serious. “If our intel checks out, H’ghar will be at the _Americana Club Social, Calle Lucerna 42, Juárez;_ around 11.00 tonight. Americana is an exclusive club with a reputation in Mexico City.” Javier showed her the website of the club. It was a two story building of which the second floor was a mezzanine and it sure came across exclusive with it’s purple and gold hues, leather chesterfield booths and a dais which looked more like a burlesque theater than a normal stage with it’s superabundance of neon light.

“Our guy will meet a man called Andreas, we expect he’s German judging by the fact the phone call was in German and so is his name, could be Swiss too, we don’t have a last name. We don’t know what their interaction will be about because the call we intercepted was short and didn’t contain a lot of useful information. We expect they have spoken before and this phone call was just to confirm the place and time.”

Arya nodded going over the information in her head.

“This will be your first chance of getting close to H’ghar, it should definitely not be too obvious but if you can somehow attract his attention and converse it would be a good start. Again, if there is no chance of getting close to him without being figured out, let it go. We don’t want to raise any suspicion and in that case it’s safer to try again later.”

Arya uttered an affirmative “hm” to indicated she understood and he could proceed.

“As you know we don’t know much about the man so we also don’t know anything about his preferences and habits. We don’t know if he is the type to pick up a girl from a club and take her home right away. Maybe he’s hungry and will want to skip formalities. We won’t wire you because if he does, and he might, you are literally screwed.” Javier grinned at his own joke.

Gendry who had come up behind them and had listened along could not hold his tongue.

“This is not a joke; Arya will run a huge risk if he does take her and we won’t be able to follow what is going on. The man is a master assassin, he could be violent.” He snapped at Javier worry clearly detectable in his voice and Arya could easily see signs of his anxiety flashing across his face. She understood his worry and protectiveness but since it wasn’t of any use to her now she tried to calm him.

“Gendry, thank you for your concern but I have been in onerous situations before. I have been undercover with drugs cartels and don’t think these guys have any manners. It’s can’t possibly be much worse than that. I have talked to Dr. Ekman and he told me Thoma… eh Jaqen was very polite and well manered at that time. Really I can handle myself and if it doesn’t feel right I will get out of there before anything can happen.”

“If you say so.” Gendry scowled and didn’t seem the least bit appeased.

Javier just ignored the whole scene and continued “We can follow you as long as you are in the club by tapping into the surveillance cameras of the club itself but if you stroll too far we won’t have image. We will however equip you with a tracking device and pepper spray both of which you can keep in your handbag. 

Arya, ignoring Gendry’s worried looks and glances, listened intently and nodded.

“You might want to wear something appealing and come show it to Gendry for approval before you leave.” Javier jested, winking at Gendry who had to do his very best not to engage. Arya just smiled at him shaking her head to indicate it was not worth the trouble.

For the next 40 minutes Arya and Javier went through the floor plans of the club, marking fire exits and possible escape routes, they went through a map of the surroundings and Javier warned her not to wander around in the Mexican neighborhood. After the extensive briefing Arya left for her apartment to get some sleep and prepare for her first encounter with the mysterious foreigner she was to find, stalk and ‘get close to’ in a luxurious Mexican night club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading everyone. I am overwhelmed by the amount of people who read my story. Thank you, thank you, thank you! Suggestions and comments are always welcome!


	6. Americana Club Social

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, here is chapter six, it's longer than I thought it would be but I hope it makes up for the wait!

Arya handed the keys of her rented silver colored Chevrolet Spark over to the valet and followed the red carpet leading up to the iron doors lined with bodyguards. It seemed all the fashionable people of this part of Mexico City had gathered in line to enter the club. The queue was made up of sophistically dressed men and incredibly attractive and fashionable young women. 

Arya herself, normally not too big on fashion or looks, had also dressed up in a gorgeous black dress with a high neck and a low backline covering enough to be modest but revealing just the right amount of her immaculate skin to attract the interest of a certain terrifying assassin, or at least that was the look she was going for. Her attire could not be called sleazy like some of the dresses, or rather lack thereof, of some of the exquisite women in line.  _ Do they only allow models or something? _

Arya remembered Dr. Ekman explaining her that Jaqen, or Thomas at that time, didn’t seem to be interested in the girls who were fighting for his attention. Though it was true that that was almost 20 years ago, it was the only information she had to work with so with that in mind she had dressed herself. Had it been an undercover mission to bring down an important figure of a drug cartel she would have probably gone for the look that seemed to be the dress code for this particular club. Honestly some of the miniskirts some of the girls in the line were wearing were so short that if you punched a couple of holes in them you could use it as a belt. Arya scowled while she scanned her surroundings moving sluggishly up the queue.

Arya had flown in only hours ago and had dressed up at her hotel in the same neighborhood. She even had had time to rest a bit but had been too restless going over all the things that came with the mission and had only slept intermittently on the plane. In a couple of hours she was to meet the man this whole assignment was about and she felt equally nervous as she felt excited as she went through all that needed to be done and all that could go wrong while doing it.

When she reached club Americana’s entrance it became clear that men got checked more thoroughly than the women and Arya managed to sneak in the tracker (made up to look like a lipstick) and the pepper spray without any trouble.

Arya wasn’t much of a clubber and although she had checked the website and pictures of the club with Javier, she was overwhelmed by the neon lights, colorful decors and the flamboyant people. Despite the early hour, it was not 11pm yet, the place was surprisingly crowded. Arya crossed the floor in the direction of the bar scanning her surroundings for her target and marking all the points of interest she had gone through with Javier. On either side of the stage there were two raised platforms with dancing girls in silver catsuits. Arya gave a start when she felt a hand on her hip. She whirled around looking at a Mexican man wearing a shiny black silk shirt buttoned down just a bit too far to be called decent, his black hair was combed back and slick with oil. He creeped up inappropriately close and started speaking to her in Mexican while raking her body with his eyes. 

“No habla Espanol.” Arya mumbled twisting out of his grip. She quickly squeezed past some people to reach the bar. At the bar people were mainly standing in pairs talking to each other giving Arya a chance to scan the crowd for the only familiar face of a man she had never met before. 

There were not only Mexicans dancing to the various tunes the DJ was playing, this club was frequented by tourists and expats as well, but the tall German terrorist was not among the partygoers. Either he had not arrived yet or he was elsewhere in the club. The fact that he might not show at all played in the back of her mind but she had mentally prepared for this and she didn’t want to consider the possibility so Arya decided to go upstairs to check the bar there. 

As she walked up the stairs her heart skipped a beat when a tall handsome man with light blue eyes brushed past her.  _ Oh Jesus it’s him. Ok Arya this is it, now focus, _ she thought trying to keep her cool. Without looking straight at him she kept climbing the stairs. He didn’t appear to have noticed her and proceeded down.

The upstairs mezzanine proved to work in Arya’s favour as it was perfect for scanning the ground floor and it took only seconds for her to locate her target at the bar. The mezzanine was enclosed with a chain link fence in front of the lower fence that used to be the only  railing.  _ This probably has been done for a reason _ Arya thought and she could envisage a drunken reveler plunging a deck down onto the dance floor. From her venture point she could observe her target with a minimal chance of him noticing being watched. 

Through the fence she could see that the man known to her as Jaqen H’ghar was wearing a smart black suit with a white buttoned down shirt. He was leaning casually against the end of the bar. He wore his dark blond hair close-cropped. Arya let her eyes wander over his face. Although she had only seen a school picture of twenty years ago and a more recent one of poor quality there was no doubt this was her man. He had striking light blue and almond shaped eyes which somehow gave him a predatory look, his chin was lined with a stubble and his jaw was set so that his full lower lip protruded a bit. Compared to the picture she had seen of him at Dr. Ekman’s office, he had become more handsome, more manly and even more unfathomable.

Jaqen seemed relaxed and the way he moved showed a bit of swagger though not in the arrogant sense of the word,  _ confident might have been a better way to put it  _ she thought _ or no, that wasn’t it either.. _ . He had a kind of animalistic attraction about him. Arya had to force herself to keep her head about her and not to get lost in the strange kind of trance he seemed to pull her into.

She took out her phone pretending to take a couple of selfies while in actual fact she snapped a couple of shots of him and sent them directly to the office. 

 

As it soon turned out not only Arya felt strangely attracted to the mysterious assassin.

From the right side of the dance floor a tall, blond, gorgeous looking young woman in a dark blue dress and high heels walked up to Jaqen her hips swaying and her golden locks trailing behind her. From the way she moved her intentions were quite clear and she went straight for her target. The woman snaked up to the man looking at him seductively her moves fluent and graceful. Jaqen followed her approaching her with his cat-like gaze of light blue. Arya tensed and eagerly waited for his response,  _ to see if this would complicate her mission _ , at least that’s what she told herself.  

When the girl was almost upon him, he had not moved an inch in the process, she reached out her arm decorated with at least a dozen thin golden bracelets and temptingly put her hand on his shoulder. He languidly turned his head dragging his eyes over the line between her shapely face, her slender arm with the tinkling bracelets, to where her hand rested on his shoulder and then tantalizingly slowly along the same path back to her face. The way he looked at her with his unreadable expression made the woman shift uneasily.  _ Not so bold as you thought you were? _ Arya thought squinting at the woman. 

Jaqen slowly leaned forward and seemed to whisper something in the girl’s ear, she had enticingly turned her head exposing the white skin of her neck to him. Her eyes grew big with surprise and she dropped her hand which had been resting on his shoulder sending all the golden bracelets tinkling down to her wrist. She turned abruptly and stalked off with an insulted look on her face. 

The side of Jaqen’s mouth quirked up as he regarded the low cut of her dress as she walked away from him. With an amused look he took a sip of his whiskey leaning back against the bar supporting himself on his elbows. 

_ Thanks for the lesson bitch, now I know how I definately shouldn’t approach him. _ Arya caught herself thinking it and knew that was too harsh. However she burned with curiosity about what the handsome killer could possibly have told the girl to offend her so but she didn’t get time to contemplate about it because seemingly from out of nowhere a man walked up to where Jaqen was standing. He indicated at the angry blonde with a jerk of his head in her direction raising his eyebrow to Jaqen. Jaqen smiled, extended his hand and the two men pulled each other into a brotherly embrace. This man looked older than Jaqen but his frame was smaller and leaner. He had dark brown almost black hair which had turned silver on the sides. The man had sharp features a pointed chin beard which was silver blended but his moustache was still mostly brown. Arya couldn't quite name it but there was a skittishness about this man, he had a kind of ribald air about him. The way his eyes lined with crows feet skittered around the club fully aware of his environment.

Arya took a couple of pictures of the men and forwarded the evidence to her colleagues back at the office. If all was going according to plan they would also have footage from the cameras in the club but she knew the quality of the surveillance videos was poor. Taking pictures was not her priority now however. She had to get closer and see if she could catch parts of their conversation. Arya quickly made her way to the red carpeted stairs which came down directly next to the bar. She did so on her semi-high heels as quickly and gracefully as she could but not before turning on the voice recorder on her phone. When she arrived at the bar the two men were still exactly where they had been and Arya managed to slip behind them placing her phone on the bar next to her while pretending to wait for the bartender to notice her so she could order a drink. 

 

The men were indeed speaking German and Arya cursed herself for not regularly attending classes at university for she could only understand fragments of what was being said. Jaqen’s voice was deep and husky and sent a shiver down Arya’s spine. The other man, she assumed to be Andreas, his voice was extremely hoarse maybe it was because he was whispering she didn’t know, but it too sent shivers down her spine however for completely different reasons. She could understand mere words, zusammenkommen ,Verträge, Garten, Brüder und Schwester. It didn’t matter, the recording would directly be forwarded to her colleagues, be it with a small delay, who had a interpreter sitting with them and they would be able to listen along with what was being said. It was Andreas who did the talking while Jaqen just gave curt nods and occasionally replied to what was said. 

Arya didn’t hear the barman the first two times until he raised his voice to her in English surmising she didn’t understand Spanish. 

“What would you like to drink miss.” the Mexican barman asked. 

“Oh ah, martini por favor.” she managed a bit aghast. 

She didn’t dare check if the men had noticed what transpired behind their backs but checking if they had might give her away completely so she just anxiously waited for her drink to arrive without turning around. 

\----

At the office Gendry, Javier and a translator called Bastian were intently listening to the conversation which was difficult to follow because of the clattering of glasses, the chatting and the loud music. They had looped the surveillance footage through to the office computer so they could simultaneously watch the scene and, though the image was not clear, they could follow what was happening be it with a couple of seconds delay. Bastian was wearing headphones to be able to hear better. Gendry was pacing and kept asking Bastian what was being said which earned him irritated German and Spanish remarks.

“What are they saying?” 

“Tsssssssss cabron!” Javier hissed for the second time already.

“Andreas is telling him that the contacts were made and the others will soon meet to discuss the details. The files have been found back but they are damaged he says they might be able to restore them. The contracts are …. are made up for …..Scheiße….I can’t hear because of the background noises.” Bastian cursed in his German accented English.

He leaned in as if he could hear better by getting closer to the screen. 

“Wait… Your brothers will meet you and your sister in the garden, after that you will have to…. relocate...” Bastian frowned.

“Relocate? where? where will they go?”

Bastian help up his hand while giving Gendry an irritated look.

“They don’t say where, I’m assuming they’ve discussed the place before.” Bastian frowning while shaking his head. 

“Jaqen says that they have to leave from where they are staying now, it’s not safe. He says he will go alone and his sister will stay to finish things. Also he will change when he is done here? What is that supposed to mean?” 

Bastian froze in his place.

“Nein scheiße…..” 

“What? what’s going on?”

Bastian jerked his head towards the monitor, the image came later than the sound but now the others saw it too. Both Jaqen and Andreas froze for a second, Andreas turning his head in the direction of where Arya was standing. He leaned in a bit further to Jaqen. 

“I think they are on to your girl over there...he said something about the girl having developed a special interest.” 

“Oh fuck! I will call her!” Gendry said and reached for his phone.

“No, send her a message, we will lose the recording if you call her and they might hear and suspect something.” 

Gendry quickly punched in a message and sent it -  _ Arya they don’t trust it, abort. _

They intently watched the screen for what was to happen next.

\----

Back at the bar Arya had taken a couple of sips from her drink trying to look like she was waiting for someone, checking her watch and then scanning the dance floor. She had slowly turned around holding her phone in her hand. She gave a start when it buzzed. Just as she was about to check it Jaqen and Andreas moved away from the bar. She quickly read the message.  _ No, damn it  _ she thought and knew following them would be no option. She could do nothing but watch the two men move towards the hall leading outside. When they had disappeared into the crowd she called Gendry.

“Gendry, damn it I fucked up, tell me you can use the info we have.”

“Hey, no don’t say that, it was not your fault. Don’t worry about it you did a good job we have some clues.”

“They left, did you get the pictures?” 

“Yes yes we got them, they are good. We will have a guy following them. Don’t beat yourself up about it ok just go to the hotel, get some rest.”

“Yeah, yeah ok, I am not feeling great I will try to get some sleep. We can talk in the morning.”

“Sure, you must be spent, drive safe.”

Arya hung up the phone and took a deep breath. He had been so close, so close she could touch him and she had to let him walk away. If they had suspected something she would not be able to attempt something similar again and run the risk of being recognized. She cursed herself and the whole situation. She reached for her head trying to push away the terrible headache which she attributed to the loud music and the lack of sleep. All she wanted now was to get out of the loud neon hell and back to her hotel room. When pushed through the mass of dancing people on the dance floor she started to feel dizzy.  _ It’s too hot in here, too busy, oh god I have to get some air.  _

She finally managed to get to the other side and into the hall and after what seemed like forever out onto the street. 

 

Her head was spinning and she could not see clear. Disoriented she walked into a narrow side street. She hadn’t noticed the three men following her. Supporting herself with her hands against the wall she kept walking into the dark alley. Before she realized something was really wrong and turned around she was roughly pushed against the wall a hand covering her mouth. With a lot of effort she managed to focus her eyes on her assailant and stared into the face of the Mexican man who had come up to her right after she entered the club and who she had walked away from. Behind him were two other treacherous looking men. 

The men started grabbing and tearing at her dress and one of them snatched her bag. Arya weakly started struggling against their grip vaguely remembering the moves from her sessions with Dean but something was not right. Her arms felt heavy and her knees weak, her vision was blurry and her head was spinning. Focusing on what she had to do or what was going on was near impossible. While one man had crept behind her, retained her arms and muffled her whimpers with his hand, the other tried to slip his hands under her skirt while the third was emptying the contents of her bag on the cobblestone alley floor. When the man in front of her bent down to reach under her skirt Arya managed with all her might to knee him in the face sending him stumbling backwards. He reached his hand to his face and checked it for blood. When he saw he was bleeding something in him snapped. He wiped his nose with the sleeve of his shiny black shirt, cursed at her in Mexican and picked up a broken bottle from the ground. He slowly started creeping up to her with a menacing look on his face, blood smeared over the side of his mouth and cheek, fresh blood still trickling from his nose. He lifted the bottle up to her shoulder and slowly pushed it into her flesh piercing it with the sharp edge. Arya tried to scream out in pain but her cries were muffled. She felt the warm blood flow from the wound and drip down her elbow. Her knees buckled, she knew she was on the brink of fainting and the only thing keeping her up was the man behind her firmly holding her arms behind her back. The slick haired Mexican raised the bottle to the side of her face and just when Arya was sure he would maim her she heard a voice deep and dark coming from behind the man who was assaulting her. She heard the voice hiss something to the man in Spanish and she urged herself to open her eyes and focus. She was fading in and out of consciousness but she was positive she saw the gun which was pushed under her attacker’s chin. 

The grip on her arms lessened and then she was released completely sending her straight to the ground. In a blur she saw the three men running as fast as their legs could carry them, their footsteps sounding further and further away until they disappeared. Arya sat stooped down on hands and knees her left hand resting in a small puddle of her own blood. She didn’t have the strength to keep herself up, her consciousness slowly fading she sank down until she felt the cold cobblestone against her face. After what could have been seconds or hours she felt her body being lifted up from the cold floor and hanging slack in the strong arms of a man her head resting against his upper arm. She struggled hard to open her eyes but it felt like her being was pulled into the void. When she finally managed to weakly force open her lids, light blue almond shaped eyes gazed into her soul and then the world went black. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with me till the end of the chapter, hope you enjoyed it. I would love it if you leave a comment so I can improve myself!  
> If anyone wants to beta for me let me know, god knows I could use someone to check out my work before I put it on here. ^^


	7. Enjoying the View

The image was a dark green and grey blur. She tried to swallow but her mouth was dry as ash and her head felt like it was made of stone, too heavy to move. Arya blinked a couple of times. The ceiling she was staring at was weathered, the dark green paint was blistering and had come off at some parts. She tried to swallow again and frowned.  _ Where am I? _ With effort she managed to slowly turn her head to the right. The walls on her right matched the weathered ceiling, wallpaper torn and blotched.  _ Where the fuck am I? _ The wooden door that had once been white was closed. Light filtered in through the small high placed window throwing shadows of moving branches over the ceiling. Arya started to feel a slight panic coming up. She attempted to sit up but was not able to lift even her head. 

“I wouldn’t try that if I were you dear.” 

Arya jerked her head one hundred eighty degrees to where the voice came from but was instantly overtaken by intense nausea. She had to close her eyes to stabilize herself. Behind the black of her eyelids she cursed herself unable to open her them until the sickness had slightly abated. When she peered through her lashes she saw the perpendicular image of a fat bald man sitting next to where she was lying. Arya wheezed and then squinted at the soft, pudgy and slightly effeminate man wearing something akin a light green monk’s robe. 

“Where…. am I.” she rasped her mouth and throat too dry to speak.

The man smiled at her, he looked friendly enough. 

“I am truly sorry for the poor state of the abode but at least it is better than the stone floor of a Mexican back alley.” Arya noticed the man’s voice sounded more like the voice of a chubby aunt or grandmother than it sounded manly. His hands were folded in his lap.

She gave a pensive look from under her furrowed brow as images of what had happened slowly came back to her. Her eyes shot to her shoulder. Her dress was pulled down her left shoulder leaving it bare but the rest of her body was still covered by the black dress. Her arm was neatly bandaged.

“You have been given a strong sedative for the pain, that’s why you don’t feel much now but it might start hurting when the effect of it wears off.”

“Who are you?” Arya managed hoarsely.

The man gave her a somewhat sad smile. “Some call me Spider but my name is Varys.”

He got up from his chair and picked up a cup. 

“You should drink some water.”

As he leaned over to lift her head she turned to face away from him. 

“If we had wanted to harm you sweetheart, we wouldn’t have gone through the trouble, we could have just left you where you were.” 

_ We….Jaqen H’ghar... _ She just stopped herself in time from saying his name and betray her knowledge.

“What happened?” she said instead, her head still spinning.

“Your drink was spiked with Rivotril a kind of Rohypnol... a date rape drug.”

“Don’t worry.” Varys reassured her when he saw her startled look “Our friend has kept an eye on you, unfortunately he could not prevent you from the harm that has befallen you.” He looked at her shoulder. “But he has prevented worse.” 

_ Our friend? He’s talking about Jaqen, is he here?  _

Arya allowed Varys to help her to sit up to drink, although she was leery she realized she wasn’t going anywhere in this state and she really needed some water. She coughed as the liquid went up the wrong way and Varys gently patted her back. The wound on her shoulder was throbbing.

“Who is your friend?” she ventured.

“You should try to rest a bit, you will meet him soon enough.”

The friendly spider turned towards the door reaching for the handle.

“My things?”  _ The receiver, my phone, my wallet. _

He turned back to face her with his hand still on the handle. 

“I’m afraid they are lost my dear, your Mexican aggressors have ran off with the contents of your bag.”

Arya felt a pang of worry at that, without the tracker the headquarter would not be able to locate her, she didn’t have her phone and she did not even know where she was. But at least she would meet Jaqen again, if she was to believe the spider.

“Rest now dear, you are safe here. I will bring you something to eat later.”

Before she could ask anything else he had softly closed the door behind him. 

 

Sitting up she had a better overview of her surroundings. She was sitting on a mattress on an old bed. The white sheet on the bed was new and clean but the rest of the room looked like it had not been used for ages. The place smelled musty, like a combination of mould, moss and rotting wood. There was the small window that was located too high up the wall to see through but the light spilling in indicated that it was daytime. There was a bigger window on the opposite wall through which some lines of light illuminated particles of dust but it was boarded up behind the ripped lace curtains.

There was not much else in the room, an old bedside table with a taper on it,  _ no electricity? _ and a single chair on which the spider had sat next to her bed seemingly waiting for her to gain consciousness.    


_ Jaqen is here, he is the one Varys was talking about. _ She didn’t remember seeing his face, but she clearly remembered his eyes staring down at her, she knew it had been him carrying her out of the alley. Wherever she was now she had been taken there with his knowledge. What else did he know, about her, about why she had been in the club and why had it been him of all people who found her in her precarious situation? 

The mission had gone anything but as planned but she apparently did find herself under the same roof and under the care of the assassin she was to locate, follow and spy on.

The heavy feeling slowly started leaving her limbs and Arya decided to test her bodily abilities. Turning her torso sideways she dragged her legs to the side of the mattress and over the edge.  _ Where are my shoes? _ Her bare feet touched the rough floorboards. With her hands curled around the edge of the bed she steadied herself from the dizziness that overtook her. She closed her eyes, swallowed and blew out a long breath. When she looked down at her thighs she noticed the side of her skirt had been ripped almost up to her waist making it a whole new model which, if it had been finished off more neatly, would not even have stood out it the club yesterday. 

_ Oh shit the club... _ An image of Jaqen and Andreas talking at the bar flashed before her mind’s eye. They had clearly heard what had transpired behind their backs and it had made them suspicious, suspicious enough to leave the bar. But Jaqen hadn’t left completely now had he, how else could he have been in the alley just on time to save her from falling prey to whatever the those men were going to do to her while she was under the influence of the Mexican variety of Rohypnol. Of course she knew the drug, she had worked with the freaking narcotics. But Gendry had told her they would have someone follow the men, maybe they had and in that case they knew where he had taken her.

Arya gathered all her courage, took a deep breath and pushed off the side of the bed to stand. Swaying on her legs she moved to stabilize herself against the wall which felt slightly moist to the touch. Taking calculated steps she shuffled towards the boarded-up window.  _ If I can see outside maybe I can get an idea where the hell I am _ . She leaned into the window trying to peek through the the boards. Tree leaves were obscuring the view.  _ I am not on the ground floor. _ She took a step to the side bending down to a slit between the boards. From the small crack she could see through the leaves into what seemed to be some kind of abandoned courtyard. Nothing specific or remarkable. A broken bench overgrown with ivy and moss, a couple of palm trees and something that looked like an abandoned shed, again shabby and overgrown with plants. On the other side of the yard there were old seemingly abandoned buildings with broken windows, some boarded up some not. She squinted through the small slit between the boards in search of something that might give her a more specific clue at where she was.

 

“Enjoying the view, lovely girl?”

Arya jolted up and whirled around too quickly, resulting in her losing her balance and stumbling to the floor. She winced at the sharp pain that shot through her shoulder as well as her hands and knees as they clashed with the run-down floorboards.

“A man seems to find a girl in the same position every time he meets her.” His smirk was audible in his voice. He had certainly enjoyed the view before he had startled her. The split of her ripped dress had exposed her thigh so very splendidly as she stood bent forward trying to look through the window.

Arya slowly lifted her head to look at the man standing in the door opening. Their eyes met, as a man called Jaqen H’ghar regarded her slouched in her awkward position on all fours on the floor near the window. He was wearing something different from what he had worn in the club, probably due to her bleeding all over him when he had carried her. Clad in a casual grey greenish dress shirt with rolled up sleeves and a dark pair of trousers he walked towards her. Supporting her good arm he helped her up, tentatively guided her to the bed and calmly sat her down. In her head however her thoughts were anything but calm. _Oh my god, it’s him, oh my god we are in the same room and he just spoke directly to me. For Christ’s sake get your act together, don’t make a mistake now or your body will never be found. Don’t slip up, act like you don’t know the guy, don’t say anything that gives away that you already know his name..._

“Thank you.” she said demurely repressing her mental turmoil and looked up at his face. 

He regarded her shoulder with a pained look. 

“You messed up a man’s hard work.” he said following the tutting sound.

Confused she turned her head to the left and saw blood stains forming on the previously immaculate bandage. She noticed it was the third time he used a strange speech pattern referring to himself in the third person. In the club she had only heard him speak a few words in German but now it seemed that in English he only used the indefinite speech pattern to refer to himself and others.

“Who are you?” Arya asked knowing exactly who he was. 

He didn’t look her in the eye but instead started to peel off the bandage to check the damage. 

“A man has the honor to be Jaqen H’ghar.” 

_ Did he just tell me his real name? Just like that? _

She looked at him silently taking off her bandages inspecting the wound. His hands looked bronze and enormous compared to her slender white shoulder. She also realized that for someone with such massive calloused hands he handled her injury very carefully. She let her eyes glide over the veins and muscles of his bronze lower arms, his broad shoulders and took in his face. A golden stubble covered his tanned skin, he had a straight nose, a very symmetrical face and his eyes had, as she had discerned before, a shape that reminded her of the eyes of a predator. Maybe he sensed her stare because he raised his eyes and she suddenly found herself staring straight into the ice blue depths of the assassin’s dark rimmed irises. It felt as if a couple dozen butterflies were released in her chest and she quickly cast her eyes down trying to push away the overwhelming feeling. 

“One of the stitches has come undone, a man will get his things, a girl must not move until he returns.” 

Arya didn’t dare to look up at him for she felt her cheeks glow. She nodded her consent.

Jaqen got up and headed for the door. 

“Sweet girl.” 

She looked at him.

“No moving around until a man returns, a girl must obey.”

She swiftly nodded, vigorously hoping her cheeks had returned to their normal pale state. 

He closed the door behind him with a soft click.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, hope you ennjoyed this chapter and the (re)introduction of our friend the good old Spider :)  
> I always enjoy your comments and tips are always welcome! Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ps. I own nothing and the characters are all with us thanks to the amazing Mr. Martin!


	8. A New Shift and Beans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I am writing two stories (the other one being 'A man has reasons of his own') and working on the one that best fits my mood so sometimes one or the other gets put on pause for a bit. I managed to produce a chapter and hope to write another one soon!

It had not been Jaqen the next time the door to her small stuffy room had opened and that while she had been such an obedient girl still sitting in the same place, pretty much still even in the same position in which the assassin had left her.  _ Why did she feel….disappointed _ ?

Varys had apologised to her on behalf of him, something important had come up and he had to leave to take care of it. She wondered if it involved taking someone’s life.

“I will give you a local anesthetic, I think you have had enough sleep already, it’s only one stitch anyway.” 

Varys’ soft pudgy hands were in such contrast with Jaqen’s huge calloused hands on her skin.    


“Our friend has asked me to explain a couple of things to you, you must be confused.” Varys said as he unpacked a professional looking set of medical instruments. He cleansed the wound with disinfectant.

Arya meekly nodded. She was where she needed to be but she didn’t know  _ where _ she was and if her colleagues had not somehow followed  _ her captor? her saviour? _ like Gendry said they would, no one else knew where she was either. In contrast to the plan she also didn’t know  _ how _ she got here and what had happened after she had passed out. Furthermore she hadn’t had a chance to plan this totally new turn of events and didn’t know how much trouble she had gotten herself into.

“Why did Jaqen bring me here and not to a hospital or something?

Varys smiled but it was a sad smile. She read his face easily, he did not bother putting up a mask. 

“Unfortunately we didn’t have that luxury dear child, but do not fret, I am very good at this and so is our friend. It would be helpful however if you would be a bit more careful not to fall again.”

Arya smiled at that. She felt like some kind of damsel in distress who constantly needed a dangerous assassin with terrorist objectives and a prize on his head to save her. To her understanding it had been Jaqen who had stitched her up in the first place and with Varys returning to her instead she had lost her chance to thank him for it, at least for now.

Arya looked down at her ripped dress which had fallen open too far but she suspected Varys was not very interested anyway. He did however noticed her unease.

“It’s better if you stay here tonight, this is not the best part of Mexico City for a woman to wander out on her own, not to speak of the sorry state your dress is in….”

It had started to get dark and Varys had had to light the candle on the bedside table in order to see what he was doing. She realized he was probably right about going out now and it was also in her best interest to stay close to her target as long as could be called safe.

“I will get you something else to wear and we can look at our options in the morning.” Varys said tapping the syringe filled with an anesthetic which he had taken out of the sealed box in front of her eyes. 

The man seemed deceptively friendly and helpful for an alleged member of a terrorist organisation. She didn’t spy any false intentions and unless he was an even bigger master in deception and emotional manipulation than Jaqen she would almost say she liked him.

He administered the injection and waited until the anesthetic started to work before carefully stitching up the place where previously a stitch had been keeping the wound together. 

“Is there anyone you need to call?”

Arya understood the gesture but also realized she did not have her own phone and calling the CIA with someone else's phone did not seem like a great idea. Maybe she could call Sansa and ask her to contact Gendry just so they would know she was alright but then she didn’t want to get her sister involved and all worried and if Gendry had had them followed there was no need for extra contact which might only put their operation at risk. 

“No, that’s ok, I will go back to my hotel in the morning.”  _ Ouch, that might not have been the best move,  _ she thought _ , saying that no one would miss you if you wouldn’t show up for a couple of days.  _

“There now, all done.” Varys said as he finished bandaging the wound again. 

“Thank you.” She said with a sweet smile. Her words were interrupted by the growling of her own stomach.

“Poor darling, you must be starving. Let’s go get you something to eat.”

Arya hadn’t thought about it until now, the adrenalin racing through her system and the waves of nausea had probably pushed the feeling into the background, but now that the Spider mentioned it she realized she was as a matter of fact starving.

He helped her up and to the door 

“Let’s get you something to wear first, you can’t walk on your bare feet here either.”

Varys opened the door and they stepped into a long dark corridor, the narrow windows along the ceiling being the only source of diminishing light. Varys motioned Arya to wait in the door opening. He turned right, passed two doors and then halted in front of a third door. He knocked and after waiting a couple of seconds opened the door and went into the room leaving the door open just a crack. She heard his soft voice and the voice of a woman but the sound was to muted for her to make out any words. If Arya had been in her normal state she would probably already have sneaked up and listened in on their conversation but she still felt weak and would not take the risk right now. About a minute later Varys came out of the room with a bundle of fabric and a pair of dirty light grey sandals. He walked over to her and handed her the clothes. 

“Here, put these on. They are not as nice as your dress once was but it will keep you warmer and you will present less of a distraction.” 

Arya frowned at his remark and gauged he didn’t mean a distraction for himself but she compliantly took the bundle and retreated into her room. The bundle of fabric turned out to be a black shift that fell over the knees, it had a square neckline and a belt. It looked very proper, like the clothes a nun would wear. The sandals were not any sexier but very comfortable and she later would be thankful for them. 

 

When she stepped back into the hall, dressed in her newly acquired outfit, she saw Varys had lit a lantern and was waiting for her in the long corridor. He turned to face her and the light of the kerosine lamp fell onto them both. In the dilapidated dusky corridor both dressed in their ecclesiastical outfits she truly felt like they were in some sort of convent.

“Not nearly as beguiling as before but I assume you would agree to this shift being more comfortable.” he remarked. 

He was right, she did feel much more comfortable in the shift than she had felt in her dress even before it got ripped. She followed the spider through the long hall taking mental notes of all she regarded. Most of doors they passed had numbers on them though some had fallen off they had left traces of where they once had indicated the numbers of the rooms.  _ It must be an abandoned hotel… _ The corridor ended in a fairly large and open area with concrete pillars, a black and white checkered floor and stained glass windows. A dodgy looking wooden stairs led to the floor below. Varys noticed the worried look on Arya’s face when he stepped onto the squeaking boards. 

“If it holds me you shouldn’t be worried my dear.” he said the candle light illuminating his round face. “However I wouldn’t trust the handrail blindly.” He extended his hand. 

Step by step he helped her down the stairs which turned out to be more solid than it had looked at first sight. Downstairs she found herself in a hall identical to the one she had just came down from. Here however the checkered floor was strewn with broken glass from the windows and she realized what Varys had meant when he had warned her about needing some kind of footwear. They passed the space and ended up in yet another corridor. There were no windows and the only flickering light came from candles that were placed on a ledge on the wall. The glass, dirt and leaves cracked under their feet as they passed through the hall towards a door at the end. Varys led her into a room with a large wooden table and some camping equipment for cooking.    


“It won’t be a five course meal but I can cook you some good old Mexican frijoles refritos.” 

It felt strange to her, almost comical, sitting at a table in the kitchen of an abandoned hotel with a fat grandmother-like terrorist cooking her a Mexican meal while she herself was clad in someone else’s waif-like clothes. 

Varys turned out to be a decent cook and he cooked her up a reasonably good meal. It honestly hadn’t mattered what it was he dished her up with for Arya was so hungry she would have eaten anything he would have presented her, but the beans with tortilla and avocado didn’t just still her hunger but were quite delicious too. 

It was time to carefully venture and Arya decided it was safer to explore her chances with the friendly spider than with  _ the wizard of deception detection  _ as Dr. Ekman had so perfectly put it. She thought about the old man and how he would frown at the situation she had gotten herself into. 

“Are you guys with some kind of sect or something?” she asked him with her mouth full,  waving between her own clothes and the spider’s monk-like outfit.

He gave her a half-smile. “If you want to call it that.” 

Arya was a bit surprised at his answer, she didn’t know what she was expecting. She scratched her head, swallowed her food, leaned towards him over the table and asked for elucidation. “What kind of sect, I mean, who...who do you worship?” 

“We worship no one, lovely girl.”

This man had a hidden talent of silently opening doors and catching her off-guard. Jaqen flashed Varys an undecipherable look. So he was back apparently,  _ good _ . But right in the middle of her investigation,  _ not good _ . The look on his face told her the time for exploring was over. She also saw his eyes travel down to her clothes. Before she could tell him anything else he beckoned Varys to step out with him. She could still see the two men but they spoke in a language she did not understand. 

“Daha dikkatli olmamız lazım, burada fazla kalamıyoruz.” Jaqen whispered in a language she couldn’t place.

“Kızla ne yapacağız?” Varys’ indicated at her with a nod of his head. 

“Kızı bana bırak.” Jaqen’s answer was a resolute whisper.   
  


\----

 

Javier’s fist hit the table making the slick haired Mexican flinch. 

The tracker had lead them to a shady bar in a Mexican neighborhood where they had found and arrested two of the three men who had last seen Arya Stark. 

On the other side of the two-way-mirror Luwin’s face turned darker and even more worried than it had been all day. He didn’t feel at home in the Mexican office. He had lost one of his subordinates and the investigation was leading nowhere. 

In retrospect they had re-checked the tapes from Club Americana’s security cameras and had spotted one of the thugs slip something into the girl's drink. 

Javier came out of the interrogation room shaking his head. 

“He keeps on giving a description that doesn’t fit either H’ghar nor Andreas.” 

“So does his pal.” Gendry added. He was pacing up and down the dark office next to the interrogation room. “Their descriptions of the man they said they have seen correspond with one another, just not with either of the men we are looking for.”

Javier took out a cigarette and nervously tapped it on the table while staring at the video of the security cameras for the tenth time. “There is no footage of H’ghar or Andreas to be found after they leave the bar, even though there are security cameras in the cloakroom and at the entrance. It’s like they both went up in smoke.”

A phone beeped and Luwin answered while walking into the hall. When he came back a deep frown had formed on his forehead. 

“These men have had more than enough time to think up a story but I have sent a video recording of the interrogation of this morning to Dr. Ekman and he says the men don’t show signs that they are lying about that part of the story. This means that someone else may have taken Arya away that night.”

“A man with long red hair with a white streak?” Gendry asked as if it was too ridiculous to be true. 

“It’s a very specific description that both of the Mexicans are persistently keep giving us.” 

“You said  _ about that part of the story _ ?” Javier asked. 

“Both of them lied when they said the stabbing incident was an accident. We know the blood on the bottle and on the floor belongs to Arya.” 

Gendry turned his head away his hands balling up into fists. “We are wasting time! Whoever took Arya could be God knows where by now.” He practically roared, desperation clearly detectable in his voice. “We need to do something! Give me some men and let me ask around if anyone has seen anything.”

Luwin put a hand on the boy’s shoulder but he shrugged it off and turned away from his supervisor. 

“We can’t be too obvious. If H’ghar has her it will put her in danger if he finds out who she is. It’s better if we wait for a couple of days.”

“A couple of days? A couple of days?! She could be dead in a couple of days!” Gendry roared completely having lost his composure. 

“Gendry! Get a hold of yourself boy! Losing it like this isn’t going to help anyone!” Luwin said with an uncharacteristically loud voice. It had the desired effect for Gendry gave the man a shocked look. 

“Arya is a smart girl and this is an undercover mission, I think you are forgetting that  _ your colleague _ has experience being in arduous situations. She has what it takes to come up with a fitting plan.” Luwin’s voice had gone back to it’s usual composed tone but he did indirectly point out that this was a working situation and that Gendry’s professionality was required.

Javier stepped between them, a cigarette hanging on his lip unlit. “Hey man, why don’t you come with me to Americana and we can ask around with the bouncers. H’ghar has been in that club, there is no way he could have left without anyone seeing him leave. Maybe there is another way out, a window, an emergency exit we have missed. It’s worth a visit.” 

Gendry was already halfway out the door before Javier could finish his sentence, he had been sitting around wasting time for way too long already.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The language Jaqen and Varys are speaking is Turkish, in case anyone wants to attempt to translate it, as a Dutch person living in Turkey I finally found a way to use the language for more than going to the market and conversing with my in-laws :D
> 
> *Babycat4 I've weaved your comment about 'the damsel in distress' into the story :) 
> 
> I did so because I am thankful for the comments you guys write for me! They make my day since I get to read them in the morning!


	9. A Dangerous Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I had promissed a couple of readers I would put more J/A interaction in and I have tried to adhere to that promise. To atone for making you wait so long I have also put in a little sexy scene :D. Hope it's enough for you to forgive me :P

Arya stared at her hands that she had placed flat on the wooden table in front of her. A frown appeared on her forehead while she tried to think of what to do next. Jaqen and Varys had left her in the kitchen to finish her meal and Varys had told her he would help her back to her room as soon as he returned. Slowly she pushed off from the table to stand and found that she was much more stable on her feet. She glanced around the room and made for the counter in search of clues about the name of the hotel. Maybe she could find a name embroidered on a napkin, a towel or a menu. In the first drawer she opened she found strainers, ladles, spatulas and some other utensils she didn’t know the use of. In the second drawer however she found a collection of kitchen knives. Her hand hovered over the shiny blades as she contemplated if it was a good idea to take one up to her room in case someone would try something unsavory at night, she was after all sharing a lodging with people who were wanted by the CIA for murder among other things. After a couple of seconds of indecision she closed the drawer and opened one of the cabinets. A box of rat poison, rice, a bag of mouldy bread and a can of tuna. In the next cabinet she found a stack of kitchen towels. She took them out and studied them for a sign but didn’t find anything useful. She threw a quick look at the door and then grabbed one of the towels, opened the second drawer, took two knives out, wrapped them in the cloth and hid the bundle in the pocket of her shift. The remaining towels she carefully folded up again and put them back where she had found them. Surprised she found herself washing her plate and cutlery, while mentally praising herself for her decent behaviour. _How the hell do I still think about doing the washing up in this ludicrous situation?_ After drying her hands she cast one last glance around the kitchen and went for the door realizing she was almost back to her normal steady self.

Arya opened the door to the corridor and stepped into the narrow candle lit space. There was a kerosine lamp standing on the floor under the ridge where the candles were decorating the grey concrete with white driblets of candlewax. Arya picked up the lamp and held it out in front of her. Slowly she shuffled through the dark corridor careful not to step on sharp pieces of glass. The open area that before had been dusky was now pitch black and she realized that no light was coming in through the broken windows. The only thing entering through the aperture were vines that had snaked their way across the checkered floor of the building. Knowing it was probably useless she stepped towards the pane to try and see outside anyway, in vain, there was absolutely nothing to see. Not even the moon shed a light on the dark area and the light of the lamp reflected too brightly on the pieces of glass that were still hanging in the framework. The other side then, she thought as she carefully crossed the area to where some more windows, according to her sense of coordination, should be looking out over the courtyard she had seen from her room. _Just before that bastard had come in and startled the living light out of me._ She grimaced when she realized what the scene from his perspective must have looked like when he had made a remark about the view.

It turned out she was right, through the empty framework she could see a couple of meters into the courtyard but it was too dark to see if it led to some possible escape route in case she needed to flee her temporary accommodation. Startled she turned around when heavy footsteps on the wooden stairs indicated someone coming. She waited anxiously who would follow the flickering light that threw shadows on the walls of the staircase. A silent sigh of relief escaped her lips when she saw Varys’ soft countenance lit by the orange light of the lamp he was holding. He smiled at her.

“Exploring child?”

Arya tried to act like a normal person would act. _As normal as normal person would act after they got drugged in a Mexican bar, got stabbed with a bottle in an alley and got taken to an abandoned hotel by a wanted German assassin._ But a normal person who did _not_ work for Central Intelligence so who could _not know_ the latter and who successfully had to act as if she knew nothing about the man she was to spy on.

“I am just trying to find out where the hell I am. I can’t believe what has happened in the last twentyfour hours. One moment I am having a drink in a club and the next I am in the dark in a….what is this place? a hotel?”

She was hoping Varys would provide her with some information, a name perhaps, something that she could later use in their investigation or information that she could somehow send out so the team would know where to find her in case things went wrong. Varys though, turned out to be a master of a different skill. He seemed to have information but had perfected the technique of evasive answering.

“Oh darling child, I understand this must be confusing for you. Don’t worry, tomorrow I will safely escort you to your hotel myself if you like. This nightmare of a day will soon be over.”

“Why did you help me? Why did your friend...Jaqen? help me?” she pretended not to be sure if she remembered his name right. “It seems like you are not in the most optimal of situations yourself.”

“Our friend just did what any good man would have done, when he found you covered in blood in that alley he could not leave you there. He brought you to a safe place. Had you been in his position would you have left yourself?”

_Straight into the lion’s den….As safe as it gets_ , she thought trying not to show the doubt on her face.

“No, I guess you are right. I appreciate it” she mumbled “but...how many people are staying at this place? Is there another girl here? And why are you staying _here_ anyway?”

Varys simpered at the girl. “Circumstances dear, you of all people must understand how easily one can end up in unexpected and unfavorable situations. We all are lucky to have friends looking out for us at the right moment to prevent us from falling victim to horrible consequences.”

With his theatrical way of speaking and his strange appearance in the light greenish robe it was not hard for Arya to envision Varys on an opera stage. It would have suited him if only he would have chosen a different career path. She had no idea why he had chosen to involve himself with any kind of terrorism.

“What is your name child?”

Arya had to do her best not to let her face drop about the fact the spider evaded most of her questions and with such irking ease that made it hard for her to bluntly repeat the question. It left her not much choice but to answer his. She knew lying to Varys wouldn’t be a problem but if she later had to repeat the lie to Jaqen he would see straight through her. Maybe they had found her purse after all and already knew her real name. It was not a good basis for trust if they would find out she lied about such a simple thing.

“Arya.”

“Arya, such a beautiful name. How are you feeling Arya?

“I’m much better, I think the food helped.”

“I’m happy to hear it, though you still look a bit pale. I think it’s advisable to retreat to your room and do not tire yourself too much.”

_I always look pale, that’s my complexion._ “I’ve slept enough, I’m not tired anymore.”

“You may not feel it, but you still look it dear. Come follow me, I will show you where you can freshen up.”

Arya realized she was being dismissed and that it was useless to try and convince Varys to let her wander around a bit more so she meekly followed him up the stairs after refusing his hand saying she felt steady enough to climb the stairs without help. They crossed the hall and passed the door of the room she had woken up in.

“This is your room.” Varys said indicating at the door but kept walking so Arya followed. They passed two doors and then the room Varys had visited to take the shift. Arya wondered if the woman was still in there.

“Who stays here?” Arya ventured in a low voice.

“Our sister.”

It gave Arya pause. _Sister? who’s sister?_ But then she remembered she had heard Andreas mention something about someone’s sister in German. There was no way Varys and Jaqen could be real brothers, they did not even seem to be from the same planet. If they were not brothers the woman staying in the room could not really be _their_ sister. _It must have something to do with that sect Jaqen is denying they are part of_. Before she could word her next question Varys pushed open the last door in the hall.

“There are towels you can use but I’m afraid there is only cold water.”

“No problem. Thank you.”

“I trust you will be able to find your way to your own room afterwards...without getting lost?”

She was sure that the addition, although put in his typical friendly concerned way, was meant as a tactful warning.

“Yes, I will be ok thanks.”

Varys bowed his head to her and the deferential gesture again gave her a feeling of being part of some kind of denomination. Varys turned and Arya followed his retreating form in the long corridor until the light of his lamp was replaced by darkness.

 

The washroom was as old as the rest of the building but seemed somehow cleaner. There were candle stumps placed on the windowsill, on the edge of the bathtub and on the floor. Arya lit the wicks with a box of matches she found and soon the room bathed in a surrealistic orange light. The window she saw now, was taped off with cardboard. She walked back to the door, checked the hall for people and when she was sure enough there was no one lurking in the darkness she closed and locked the door. It turned out to be a good thing Varys had ushered her to a room that had a lock for Arya had registered that her own room lacked a way to lock people out by means of some kind of latch or bolt.

Arya carefully took the cloth-wrapped knives out of her shift’s pocket and put them down on tiled floor. She pulled the shift over her head and took off her bra.

In the broken mirror she could see how Jaqen had cleaned her up before he had skillfully stitched her wound. The marks of where he had wiped away her diluted blood stopped just above her breasts indicating that he had respected her modesty when she had been unconscious. _Hm...interesting….I don’t know what I expected._ She took one of the towels and held it under the running water. The feeling of the cool water on her skin gave her goosebumps and her nipples hardened. She thought of peeling off the bandage but changed her mind and cleaned around it not wanting to mess up the wound again or get it infected. She relived how Jaqen’s fingers had moved over the skin of her shoulder so vividly she could almost feel it all over again. She remembered how she had let her eyes relished his form and how his eyes had locked with hers causing her to blush. Had he noticed how her body had reacted to his touch?

The damp piece of cloth had taken the temperature of her skin and in the reflection of the mirror she followed her own hands moving it down from her neck and shoulders to her chest. Her lips parted when she imagined how in place of her own, Jaqen’s hands were caressing her shoulder and drifted down to where she was moving them over the sensitive skin of her breasts. The warm light of the flickering candles cast an orange glow over her normally pale skin and for a moment she completely got lost in her own fantasy. She imagined how, when he had soundlessly entered the room finding her bent over looking out the window, instead of asking her if she was enjoying the view, he would have silently come up behind her and to run  his fingers up her exposed thigh. How it would feel had he then slowly led his calloused hands to the inside of her leg and placed the other on her chest forcing her to stand. She imagined how the hard muscles of his chest would feel against her shoulders as her lean form rested against his broad chest and how she could feel the growing bulge in his trousers betray his want for her. She imagined him pulling her head to the side and ravishing the skin of her neck with his mouth. She could almost feel his breath on her skin, thought of him twisting her around to look into her soul with his predatory gaze.

She blew out a long breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and wildly shook her head. _Arya, what the fuck are you doing? Are you mad? You are on a mission, this man is your target not some kind of flirt! Jesus keep focus you fool!_ She cursed herself again when she noticed  the wetness between her legs. _Must still be the effect of the drug_ , she lied to herself. She irritably splashed her face with cold water in an attempt to snap out of her salacious state,  roughly scrubbed the rest of her skin down a bit too hard with cold water and dried herself with a fresh towel. _Focus…_ She checked the rest of the towels for the name of the hotel or a label but without result. _Ok, protection…._ She sighed when she realized that if she allowed herself to get caught up like she just did, the biggest risk to her was emanating from herself _._ Still annoyed with her own weakness to fall in such a state of preoccupation she put her bra back on. _Get to work you daft cow._ The knives, she found out when she picked them up from the floor, had been sharpened because she easily cut strips from the sturdy dish towel and she realized that she had to be careful with the contrivance she was about to create. She wrapped both the blades of the daggers with the cloth so that they were sheathed and then attached a thin strip of cloth to the sheaths so she could strap them to her body. One of the knives she placed between her shoulderblades by crossing the strips of cloth across her chest in the shape of an X, the way she had learned in one of her trainings. In this way she would be able to reach for it behind her head. The smaller blade she carefully strapped to the inside of her thigh. She made a couple of moves to check if they would stay in place and reached for them to test if her contraption worked the way she wanted it to. When she was satisfied with the result she pulled the insipid shift back over her head and repeated the moves with the shift on. _Ok that should do the trick, now let’s hope I don’t have to actually use them._ She blew out the candles and unlocked the door.

 

When she stepped out of the washroom to walk back to her room she spotted Jaqen in the long hall. He was still wearing the casual grey-greenish dress shirt and the dark pair of trousers he had been wearing when she had first met him in her room. The top buttons of his shirt were open and she could just see the dip in between his collarbones and the upper part of his bare chest. _Focus..._ He was talking to a lanky young woman who appeared to be not much older than Arya herself and whom Arya hadn’t seen before. She suspected it was the sister Varys had mentioned before, probably the same one whose clothes Arya was wearing.

She slowly approached the pair talking in the dimly lit hall. Their words were not louder than a whisper.

If this ‘sister’ knew anything about micro expressions she wasn’t using the information or she simply didn’t care to, because even in the half dark Arya recognised the look of _contempt_ that flashed across her face quite blatantly. From up closer she also noticed that the young woman might not be as young as she had seemed from afar. Where from a distance her appearance resembled that of a girl of in her early twenties, from up closer something serious in her face betrayed her age which must have been closer to mid-thirties.

The pair stopped talking and Jaqen turned his attention to Arya.

“Yes?” he said the tone of the word going up making it a question.

“I’m sorry for interrupting” Arya said to the both of them earning an inimical glance from the woman. “but may I have a moment to speak with you?”

Jaqen turned his gaze to the woman, inclined his head slightly toward her in a show of deference. She held his gaze for a while and gave him a meaningful glance but then cast her eyes down, returned the gesture, turned on her heel and left.

Jaqen waited until she was out of sight and then looked back at Arya. A motion of his head indicated that she was to follow him. Arya obeyed following a few steps behind him as they paced through the long hall. Jaqen had picked up a kerosine lamp that had been attached to a pin on the wall and held it out in front of him to light the way. They crossed the open area with the staircase and walked into another corridor that Arya had not noticed before. They halted in front of a room near the end. Jaqen put the lamp down on a ledge and pushed against the thick wooden door that cracked open and squeaked as he pushed it further. He turned and stood in the doorframe holding the door open with his extended arm.

“Come” he said in a calm voice indicating she was to enter the room.

Arya hesitated for a second a frown forming on her forehead, the frown was not entirely deliberate and though she did not try to hide it, it might have been slightly too obvious that she didn’t quite trust the situation.

With his position Jaqen had left her very little space to enter the dark room and when she finally moved to slip past him their bodies brushed each other. Jaqen followed her moving past him with his eyes and out of her field of vision a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He turned around and closed the door behind them.

 

It was much cooler inside than outside the thick stone walls. The room was small and smelled faintly of mould. The walls in this room were not concrete but solid stone. _Looks like this part of the building is older than the other wing._ The only thing pouring in through the stained windows was more darkness and because the windows were located so high it gave her the impression she was in a dungeon. The realization that she was in a small dark cell with an assassin gave her a shudder. The only light in the room came from the flickering kerosene lamp that she was still holding. There was a chair lying on the floor and a desk was standing in the back of the small room with laptop on it. _So they do have electricity?_ Jaqen picked up the chair and sat it down in front of Arya, with a curt nod he motioned her to sit. She did as she was dictated and sat down on the wooden chair. Jaqen held out his hand, took the lamp from her and placed it on the table. He lit another lamp that was placed in a little alcove in the wall. Wordlessly he dragged the other chair from behind the table and put it down in front of her. He sat down and leaned forward until his lower arms were resting on his thighs. This position would normally be interpreted as one of interest but the slow, calculated way he moved and the way his eyes never left hers made her feel like a prey being stalked by a predator rather than being invited to join in a conversation between two equal individuals.

“What is it a girl wanted to discuss?” he asked her in a low tone that almost made her regret her decision to agree to meet him here in the first place.

She could not back off now; she had to go through with this so she called upon all her training and knowledge to avoid lying to him but rather change the truth in her advantage, thus avoiding leaking suppressed emotion though she knew she had to tread carefully.

“I just wanted to….thank you for helping me, it was you right, in the alley?”

He gazed into her eyes with a blank stare but with a minimal inclination of his head affirmed her statement. The gesture was so small she had almost missed it. She waited a moment for him to speak but when it stayed silent she added “Stitching me up and all and letting me stay here. I really appreciate it.”

Jaqen inclined his head to indicate he accepted her gratitude. This time the gesture was more obvious, almost a bow. He kept his head slightly bended but directed his bright blue eyes back up at hers and scanned her from under his brow. His scrutinizing gaze and his lack of vocal reply unsettled here. _He is testing me, trying to unnerve me to make me slip up. I have to stay out of his trap and control my emotions._

If they would let her go in the morning they might pack up and be gone the same day and in that case tonight was the best chance she had to persuade him in letting her get closer. She swallowed and sat up straighter. “I’m Arya.”

It stayed silent for a couple of seconds longer than would be comfortable in a regular conversation.

“How is your shoulder. Arya.” they way he pronounced her name with his accent made it sound like _Aya_.

The bandage was now covered by her shift but she looked at her left shoulder instinctively and then back at him. “I can still feel it but it’s much better. Where have you learned to do that?” She knew the chance of getting a useful answer was minimal.

“A man has many talents that he normally doesn’t have to use.” He changed the subject and released her from his menacing stare putting her slightly more at ease.

“What is it that a girl does when she is not fighting off Mexican riffraff?”

She felt relieved that he weaved in a sense of humor but she had to stay alert. _Come on, I have practiced this, I believe it myself, it’s not a lie._

“I work with computers.” She hoped her trick would work.

“Many people work with computers.”

“I hack them.”

It was not totally a lie. Though she now was employed by the American government, one of her ex-boyfriends was a hacker, she had learned a lot from him. While working for the CIA she had done several ‘ethical hacking’ programs and later had gotten special instruction on how to steal information from computers of her targets in undercover missions eventually providing essential evidence that was needed to bring them in. In this case she revealed this particular part of information because she knew it would trigger the assassin’s interest. She had discussed the tactic with both her team and Dr. Ekman and they had decided it was a good way to infiltrate in their operation.

For anyone without training in micro expressions the ephemeral change of his glance would not have been noticeable at all but she had set this up on purpose and was completely focused on the slightest changes in his countenance. _He took the bait...he is interested._

“A man is surprised. He had pictured a girl in a more fancy workplace.” He tilted his head and lifted an eyebrow.

“And why is it that she is hanging around in Mexican night clubs?”

“I was here for work and booked a few extra days as a holiday so to speak. I am not much of the clubbing type but I was curious, though I don’t think it’s something I’ll do again soon.”

“Just so.”

“And you? What kind of group are you, squatting old Mexican hotels?”

“Is a girl sure she wants to know? A man can tell her but then he will have to kill her.” he made it sound like a joke but knowing who he was she wasn’t so sure he was joking.

“Well never mind then… forget I asked.” she tried to sound blithely.

He gave her a half smirk that made him look irresistible in her eyes.

He had noticed for she had leaked evidence of her attraction to him. It was a cat-and-mouse game they were playing though she had the advantage she was familiar with the rules better than he anticipated. He reclined against the backrest of the chair with a kind of playful swagger that she found hard to resist. _God, stop messing with my emotions._

“It would be a shame, a man could have forgone the trouble of bringing a girl in the first place. It would have saved his favourite shirt.”

Arya bit her lip, she was flirting half despite herself. “Can I buy you a new shirt?”

Silence.

She decided to push it a bit more. “Or maybe I could help you out around here with whatever it is that you are doing. I have a couple of days on my hands and nothing to do really.” She glanced at the laptop on the table.

He regarded her for a long moment without saying a word and Arya began to fear she had overstepped her boundaries and made him suspect something.

_Lovely…. lusty... girl_ , _more courage than sense._ he thought smiling to himself. _Do you really think you know what you are getting yourself into? Let us play your little game and see where it leads you._

“A girl offers her assistance. Good, there are things she can do but if a she assents to do these things, a girl must obey.”

_Tell me what it is you want me to do and I’ll make up my mind._ “What kind of things?” She realized that if she would assent to something unspecific, she would be in deep.

“A man will show a girl.” He purred thrumming her insides. His eyes were now as dark and dangerous as the unfathomable depths of the sea and Arya felt like she could be pulled under and drown in them. “In the right time she will learn exactly what she needs to know.”

She started biting her lip again.

Jaqen rose and stepped towards her in one flowing move. Closing the distance between them with the graceful moves of a panther in the flickering light. He put his index finger under her chin, tilted her head up forcing her to look at him and then used his thumb to pull her lip from between her teeth. In a reflex she licked the part of her lower lip where his thumb had touched it and swallowed. The pressure she felt from his hand was indicating her to stand and though her heart was pounding like crazy and her knees felt to weak to comply she acquiesced. _I’m gonna faint, I’m gonna faint…_ He stared into her soul.

“What do you say, lovely girl?” his voice sounded husky.

The endearment empowered her and though she was painfully aware she could be making a dangerous mistake she concurred.

He could feel the slightest of nods when she spoke and read her face like an open book.

“Alright.”

A hint of a smirk appeared on his face. _Just as I thought. More courage than sense..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you liked the turn the story is taking.  
> From the next chapter onward I promise there will be more frequent interaction between Jaqen and Arya.  
> I would be happy if you let me know what you think of this chapter!


	10. Dead End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys sorry for the long wait (especially to Yoruhime since I promised to try and write before last weekend but hey, at least you get to read it this weekend :) I sat down to write many times but I have the attention span of a 3 year old and just got distracted while checking pictures of Jaqen and GOT wiki (for research, i swear!).
> 
> A note for this chapter: In my mind, Ellaria looks more like Missandei but I thought the name Ellaria suited the young Mexican girl better. I can hear Javier saying it with his thick Spanish accent :D
> 
> Lots of cursing from now on due to our new team member

They parked the dark green Range Rover two blocks away and walked towards the club. Javier had rented the Rover from the same company that had called their number when the young lady who had rented it a day prior, had not brought it back the next day. The silver colored Chevrolet Spark was still on the same spot the valet had left it. It was later then when Arya had come to the club and it was Friday so Gendry was happy they would not have to wait in the line that he could spot had formed in front of the entrance. He glanced at the position of the security cameras aimed at the doors as they passed the line of spruced up young men and women eagerly waiting to get in. Javier took out his phone and punched in a message and a moment later a young, gorgeous looking Mexican woman with a thick mop of black curls appeared at the door. She was clad in an orange jumpshort which accented the dip in her waistline flowing into the voluptuous round curve of her buttocks. The olive skin of her impossibly long legs seemed to have a golden glow. Gendry glanced at Javier whose face displayed a look of pleasant surprise. 

“Ellaria!” he held his hands out palms facing up looking the woman up and down without a hint of shame. “You look amazing.” 

“Javi.” She smiled at him showing her perfectly straight white teeth, the smile reaching her big brown eyes creating crows feet wrinkles around them. She stepped towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck as they kissed each other on the cheeks, he put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back to take another good look at her, then he looked at Gendry.

“Ellaria, este es mi socio Gendry, Gendry this is Ellaria the little sister of one of my friends.” 

Ellaria extended her hand and smiled at Gendry who clumsily shook it. She giggled at his awkwardness. 

“The last time I’ve seen her she was still paddling around on a little pink bicycle with training wheels.” Javier laughed earning himself a punch in the shoulder from the now twenty-something girl. 

“Are you still using eh….training wheels?” Gendry joked not knowing what else to say. He wasn’t expecting this encounter when Javier had told him a friend of his worked at the club.

Ellaria giggled again and leaned in to one of the bouncers saying something in Spanish over the sound of the music spilling into the street every time the door opened. The bouncer nodded and motioned the two men to step inside. 

Walking towards the cloakroom Gendry looked around for cameras which he found aimed at the entrance, the cloakroom and the doors of the toilets covering the whole entrance area just like he had concluded from the video’s had knew by heart by now. The whole area was engulfed in a purplish blue neon light which made him feel like he had stepped into a science fiction movie. The place was packed with people and an interesting mix of latin and dubstep music was blasting from the main stage. Ellaria motioned the men to follow her as she crossed the area to a door that read  _ staff only _ . She took a pass out of her pocket, slid it through the lock and punched in a 6 digit code. They found themselves in a brightly lit corridor with doors on either side. When the door closed behind them most of the sound was locked out making a normal conversation possible. 

“Wait.” Javier said looking to the door and then into the corridor, “Why is this area not on the plan of the building? I have gone through the plans of the club but this part was not on them.” 

“Maybe the plan you have is old, this section of the building previously wasn’t part of the club. It belonged to the neighboring building, the boss has bought it a couple of years ago because we needed more space for the staff.” 

Javier looked at Gendry whose face clearly showed excitement at their new discovery. He had spotted the camera at the back of the corridor aimed at the door. 

Two scarcely dressed women engaged in an animated Mexican conversation came out of one of the rooms and moved passed them towards the door they had just used to enter the corridor. When they opened the door the loud music made it impossible to keep talking. 

“Ven” Ellaria said looking over her shoulder and walked towards a door that read  _ vestidor _ . The room turned out to be a backstage dressing room with large mirrors, some chairs and lots of costumes. 

“During the day and on some days at night we have theatre performances.” Ellaria explained when she saw the confused look on Gendry’s face. “And the dancers also prepare here.” 

“Hm.” was all Gendry said looking at a bright red and black burlesque corset. 

“But you came because of your socia, no?” 

Javier put down a black sticker with a tassel that looked like it was meant to cover a nipple.

“Yes, well we are looking for two men, they visited the club two nights ago, on the video images from your security cameras we have seen them enter but there is no image of them leaving. It could be that they have used this route. I saw there are cameras here too, could we see the recordings?

“I suppose so, but you have to have a pass and a code to get backstage.” 

Gendry gave Ellaria a pained look. “I am afraid that doesn’t present too much of a problem for the men in question.”

“Well alright, if you think so, I will ask for you, wait here.” Ellaria started for the door but turned around. “Can I get you guys a drink?” 

“No, thanks” Gendry said too excited to think about refreshment of any kind. 

“Paloma.” Javier said almost at the same time Gendry spoke.

“Are you allowed to drink while you are on duty?”

Javier gave her a smirk. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

She was the giggly type. “Alright, I will be right back.” 

The two men followed the young woman leave the room with their eyes glued to her bouncing orange form. When the door closed they both snapped out of it and looked at each other. 

“I know right.” Javi said giving Gendry a cheeky half smirk raising one eyebrow. 

Gendry made a whistling sound nodding his head.

“Why haven’t they send the video of this area?” he said a bit ashamed when he realized he actually came here to find another girl. “Do you think they did that knowingly?”

“No, I guess it’s because they thought they wouldn’t get in here anyway. They don’t know who we are dealing with here. A pass and a code don’t stop these men.”

“I’ve checked the way the cameras are set up, they cover the whole area. There is no way they could have left without at least one picking something up. I’ve shown you the images, you’ve seen it yourself. We saw them cross and leave the dance floor and then literally disappearing into the crowd. After that point they don’t appear on any camera anymore. We have even checked out the ludicrous description of the two gangbangers we have back at the office. A guy with fucking red and white hair, not surprisingly, didn’t appear on the footage either.”

“Yeah, this guy tends does that. Every time we think we have him he goes op in fucking smoke.” Javier rubbed his face. “Let’s hope this video will give us something to work with.”

A few moments later Ellaria came back holding a glass with clear liquid and ice at the top which slowly turned peach colored at the bottom of the salt rimmed glass. 

“I’ve asked about the video. You can watch it, they didn’t send it because the door is locked with a code. No one gets in here without a pass but if you think it helps your investigation.... Follow me.” She said pushing off from the doorframe which she was leaning against. 

Javier gave Gendry a look that seemed to say said  _ I told you _ .

They were led into the next room where a man in a security uniform was sitting in the dark  staring at images of the security cameras. 

Ellaria explained to the man that his help was requested and they exchanged some words in Spanish. “Juan will help you, Javi but he doesn’t speak English. Just explain to him whatever you need and he will help.” She handed Javi his drink. “Aquí tienes, salud. I hope you find what you are looking for on the video. If you need me I’ll be around.”

“Gracias palomita.” Javi said and winked at the girl. 

It turned out their hopes were again lead to a dead end. Juan was as helpful and friendly as anyone could be but after watching the same video for the fifth time they had to admit that the German assassin and his companion could not have left through this exit either. Gendry pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fuck!” 

“Lo siento.” Juan said understanding their frustration. Javier pat the man’s shoulder as a sign of gratitude. He thanked Juan in Spanish and they exchanged cards in case the man remembered anything useful.

“Let’s go and check around for another exit they could have used that is out of reach of the cameras.

Gendry frowned. “All of the exits have cameras, and we have watched all the videos. Maybe they have escaped through a window?” he ventured.

“I don’t think so. Juan said that the windows are barred. You know the fire escapes have cameras and also an alarm. They would have heard if someone had tried to open one of them.

Let’s go find Ellaria.” Gendry sighed. “I need a fucking drink.” 

 

\-------------

 

Arya was laying on the stuffy bed on top of the clean sheet, staring at the flakes of paint coming undone from the mouldy ceiling. In her head she went over all that had happened since she had first woken up staring at the same spot, when her vision had still been blurry and the room was spinning around. She was wondering if she had just booked a small success or had made a grave mistake. 

\----

She had just consented to work with a group of terrorists...

“Wait, tell me what it is you guys are doing...What are you hacking? and…. if I’m not ok with it, I can leave right?” the questions served as a way to make her acting more believable (Jaqen would surely suspect something was off if a random girl would just offer to work with some strangers on something she knew nothing about) as much as they served to reassure her that she was not rushing headlong for irreversible disaster. 

Jaqen had taken a step back but was still staring at the girl intently. 

“Just so, a girl may leave whenever she wishes. But why is it that she offers her help in the first place?”

_ Shit _ , she thought _...see...here we go. _

“She wants to...eh..I... want to...do something new. You know I am in Mexico and the situation is already as weird as it can be, might as well take on a bit of adventure. And you helped me, I want to do something back…” She scanned his face searching for a sign that indicated if he went along with her story or not.

He looked at her for a moment, then nodded and gave her a smile.

“Tomorrow a man will introduce his adventurous girl to his sister. She will explain to her what needs to be done. Don’t worry, it will only involve gaining access to some information that is difficult to reach. There will be no robbing of banks. A man’s sister is very talented but it could not hurt to have an extra pair of eyes aiding our research.”

The joke about robbing a bank would normally make her laugh but she was too distracted.  _ Did he just call me his girl? _

“The woman you were talking to before?” 

“She is a talented hacker. A girl may learn a thing or two.”

_ I need about 5 seconds with her to learn we don’t like each other.  _ She thought but compliantly nodded her head. 

“Good, a girl must retreat to her room now, a man has work to do.”

He walked to the table to pick up her lamp and handed it to her. They walked towards the door and he opened it. 

“Ah...is there a working toilet around here?” she asked looking into the hall. Strangely as cool as it had felt when she had stepped into the room at first, it now felt as if the hallway was colder.  _ Must be because the two kerosine lamps heated up the small room _ .

“One door to the left.” he answered. The flickering light of her lamp illuminated half of his comely face making him look even more irresistible. 

Seeing him like that in the doorframe triggered a strong impulse to give him a peck on the cheek. She quickly shook off the strange feeling and mumbled. “Thank you...goodnight.” 

He regarded her with a soft look and a small smile. 

“Goodnight lovely girl.”   
  


\---------

She shook her head at the remembrance of the scene.  _ What the fuck was I thinking… a kiss on the cheek? Arya seriously?  _

She sat up rubbing her face realizing that she had trouble keeping a professional attitude around him. He had already allowed her to stay and work with them. She could be around them and he had promised she could leave whenever she wanted. She had accomplished exactly that what was needed for the mission at this moment. It was not precisely the way she had drafted the course of action, but the result was not far from what she had in mind when she and her team had planned the mission; She found herself in the hiding place from where a group of at least 3 terrorist were planning their actions. The fact that she wouldn’t be able to point out her own location on a map was of later concern, she was where she needed to be. There was no direct need to flirt or to get close to him in a lewd kind of way now. Then why was she still focussed on it? Arya decided that she did what she did in order to weaken Jaqen’s emotional guard in order to draw information from him. She also knew that was partially a lie and she damn well realized how dangerous it was for her to lose focus. It had been her plan to seduce him and with it, bringing him out of his stoic balance but it seemed  _ she _ was the one wavering. In this state it was easy for Jaqen to read her and she did not want to think about what the group would do to her were they to find out why she had really offered her help. 

Arya sighed and let herself fall back down on the bed right on top of the knife she had strapped to her back earlier. She jumped up again cursing herself for her absent-mindedness.  _ Good thing I fell on the flat of the blade,  _ she thought, _ or it wouldn’t have mattered anymore if Jaqen and his friends found out that I am really trying to have them all locked up.  _

She removed the blade and hid it under her pillow but left her contraption in place. She turned the lamp down so that it produced only a faint glow. She needed to preserve the fuel in case she had need of it later. Arya lay awake facing the door for a long time listening to the sounds from inside and outside the building not expecting to find sleep. 

\------

She woke up to a soft rapping on the door. Disoriented she glanced around the room and saw light falling in through the high windows, she had slept but she had no idea how long she had been asleep for. 

“Yeah?”

The door cracked open and Varys stuck his bald head in. He smiled.

“Good morning.” he said as he stepped into the room. 

“What time is it?”

“It is around 9, breakfast time. This may be a hotel but we do not provide room service, you see we are terribly understaffed. If you would have breakfast I suggest you come down to the kitchen.” 

Arya smiled at the unusual man and his strange jokes. He made her feel more comfortable than she should feel under the circumstances. 

“Alright, I will be down in a bit. Thanks.”

The spider nodded and left the room. 

_ Seems I have survived the first night without too much of a hassle _ . Arya contemplated if she should take the knife that she had hid under her pillow or that the one still strapped to her thigh would suffice to keep her safe during breakfast. She reached for the blade, hid it under the mattress and went for the door. 

On her way to the toilet she passed the room where she had promised Jaqen she would obey to whatever unclear task he would give to her. A shiver ran down her spine. For a second she thought about sneaking into the room but then changed her mind not wanting to jeopardize the trust he had put in her giving her the mission. After washing her face in the washroom on the other side of the building she walked back to the hall with the staircase. Now that it was light out Arya could see out of the big windows and finally had a good view of the courtyard. It was quite a beautiful area. Lush green vines had wrapped themselves around most of the surrounding walls and cascaded down like green waterfalls. There were high palm trees and she could spot the shed that she had seen from her room. In the far right corner was something that looked like a big iron gate but it was so overgrown with plants that it didn’t look like it could be used. Other than that the whole area was surrounded by high walls with no other visible exit. On the other side of the hall however Arya spotted a large garden which had also fallen into decay. She crossed the checkered floor and looked out of the windows from the other side of the building. 

The garden had no walls and she could see what once seemed to have been a small town. Some buildings were completely intact while other ones were missing part of the roof. Here and there walls had started to crumble. She could see a sign of a general store and something that seemed to have been a lunchroom. There was a yellowed sign which read: sandwiches - lunches - beer - dinners. The town seemed completely abandoned. From where she was standing she didn’t spot any sign or building that had the name of the ghost town on it. For a couple of minutes she stood in the hall staring into what once probably had been a lively town big enough to boast even a hotel but scanning the perimeter in vain she finally gave up and proceeded to the kitchen downstairs. The downstairs hall was quiet and empty, no one there to stop her from just walking out. For a second she was tempted but realized it would only take her away from target so she put the thought aside and walked toward the kitchen careful not to step on any sharp shards of glass. When she was almost upon the door she heard a loud guffaw, and a voice she did not recognize. She pushed open the door and saw a huge unkempt man lounging back in a chair at the kitchen table, one of his boots propped up on a wooden bench. His long greasy brown hair obscured his bearded face. Varys, who was standing with his back towards her, turned around and looked at Arya. 

“Ah there you are child. Have a seat.” Then he pointed at the rogue, “This is Sandor, or  _ the hound _ as some call him.” 

Arya looked back at the man who now faced her. His hair fell away from his face and she saw that a substantial part of the right side of his face was covered in burn scars. Hiding her shock she tried to act as casual as possible. 

“The hound? the spider? are you guys some kind of traveling petting zoo?” she asked in a matter almost too bold for her size. 

Sandor burst into a loud laughter. 

“You’re not fucking far off!” he said still laughing loudly. Then he turned to Varys. “Spunky lil’ thing tha is!”

He regarded Arya shamelessly. “You must be tha lil’ thing that foreign cat dragged in. How’s your shoulder girl?” 

“Better.” she replied still standing up. 

“Well come on then, sit down. Mom is making eggs.” he joked indicating at Varys who gave him a tired look.” 

“What’s your name?” 

“I’m Arya.” she replied as she sat down across from the burnt man.    


“Hmmm.” Sandor hummed. “Is he letting you stay?” with  _ he  _ Arya assumed the hound meant Jaqen. 

“It seems I’ve gotten myself caught up in an adventure. Jaqen wants me to work with your eh...sister?”

Sandor scoffed at that. “Not  _ my _ fucking sister. Some adventure that will be. Faye’s a humorless cunt.” he spat as he leaned in. 

It seemed like the hound had more to say about it but was silenced by Varys who put some fried eggs, bacon and beans on the table. Sandor directly started to fork them onto a plate. 

“Here you wisp of a thing, eat.” He grunted while pushing the plate with leftovers over to Arya. 

Arya picked up a fork and started eating. 

“Hm, it’s really good.” She said not bothering to swallow her bite first. 

“Ha, it’s not bad but you’ll soon get tired of it. It’s all he knows how to make.”

Arya giggled at the expression on the spider’s face. “I could give it a try.” Arya said, “I can cook up a pretty decent dish. But, doesn’t Faye know how to cook?” 

Sandor snorted. “All Faye knows how to do is look sour and fuck around with computers, she often doesn’t even eat with us, thinks she’s too fucking good for us.” 

Varys approached the table with a pan containing more of the same; eggs and beans.

“What Sandor means to say is that Faye is somewhat of a misanthrope. She has her own story, as have we all.” With the last sentence Varys threw a meaningful look at the hound who just shrugged. 

It was silent for a while save for the sound of Sandor eating.

“I just saw we are in some kind of abandoned town. What town is this and why is abandoned?” 

“Drugs.” the hound said gruffly “The gangs, they have killed half of the people and the other half fled. It’s like that with a lot of places in Mexico. Another famous town of Fuck-It-All.” He scratched his beard. “I need a coffee.” He got up and sauntered to the kitchen. Standing up Arya saw how big the man really was. Arya was not very tall herself but Sandor must have been near 2 meters. 

“Where is Jaqen?” Arya ventured. 

“You might find him in his room if you need him. He will probably not join us here.” Varys answered her. 

“The one upstairs?” 

“No, that is just where he works now, he sleeps at the end of the opposite hall.”

Arya picked up her plate and took it to the counter to wash while Sandor was clumsily trying to prepare coffee at the counter that seemed even lower than usual. He took a coffee filter out of a box but it fell out of his hand and onto the ground. As he bent down to pick it up he hit his head on one of the wall cupboards. 

“Goddamn...fucking...arrrg!” he cursed rubbing his head as he angrily tossed the package of filters down making them fly across the countertop. Arya bit her lip not to laugh at the clumsy giant and started picking up the filters. 

“You just sit down, I’ll prepare that coffee.” she said looking at the hound with a sense of pity. 

Sandor mumbled something under his breath but followed her instruction and sat back down at the table. 

Varys had prepared himself a serving of the only thing he apparently know how to make and had sat down at the table aswell observing the new girl finding her way around the kitchen. 

While she was preparing the coffee Arya realized how long it had been since she had prepared coffee for anyone but herself. Since she was living alone and her job required her to get up early she hardly ever had breakfast sitting down at a table anymore. She just systematically ran her morning routine in order to get to work on time. It was mostly Gendry who would provide her with a bagel and a cup of coffee at work. He seemed to take care of her better than she looked after herself and she felt a tad of guilt as she realized she never really repaid the kindness. As she thought of her colleague she realized how worried he must be about her, how he always worried for her. She had to suppress a giggle when she thought about the look on his face if he could see her preparing coffee for a group of terrorists. She found some cups in cabinet and jar of sugar in another. She poured coffee in four mugs and handed two of the mugs to the men at the table. Sandor regarded her actions from under his scruffy brow. He took the cup from her and unceremoniously shook in a fair amount of sugar not bothering to use a spoon. He stirred the coffee with the back of a knife that was on the table and took a swig. 

“Ahhhhhh, not bad.” He looked at Varys. “I don’t mean to sound sexist but I say we put this maid in the kitchen!” 

Arya raised an eyebrow at him. 

“I will find Jaqen and ask him about it ok?” she half joked picking up two of the cups. “Does he take sugar?”

“Whataya think?” the hound grunted taking another swig.

Arya turned towards the door not bothering for sugar. 

“Across the hall, second door on the left.” the friendly spider said sipping his coffee. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for reading and for your comments! Let's welcome Sandor to the team...I thought we had need of a bit of gruffness to balance out the other characters. Hope you don't mind but if you do you can just bleep out the cursewords yourself while reading this as a bedtime story to your kids ;)


	11. To Make Up The Account

The closer Arya got to the room Varys had explained was Jaqen’s, the faster her heart began to pound in her chest. Holding two mugs of freshly brewed coffee, she shuffled towards the door in a corridor she had not set foot in since she found herself in the unusual accommodation. She set one of the mugs down on a ledge next to a candle stump, took a deep breath and knocked on the wooden door. _Why is he sleeping in this old wing?_

“Yes?” came Jaqen’s voice from the other side.

Arya took his reply as an invitation and opened the door. Her eyes grew big when she saw a shirtless Jaqen standing in the middle of the room. His black sweatpants hanging low on his hips revealing a thin line of hair running up to his navel. She quickly cast her eyes down as she felt a blush creep up her neck.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.” she mumbled staring at the dirty worn out sandals she was wearing. _Holy sit...._ _try to gain control of the situation._

“A girl is not disturbing a man.” he said to her in a gruff voice that sounded like he just woke up.

 _Mission failed_ , she thought his husky voice sent a shiver up her spine.

From the corner of her eye she saw him pick up a white shirt.

She realized she was acting schizophrenic but it was his fault, he made her like that. He gave her the courage to be bold and flirty but with a single look he could make her blush like a giddy maid.

“I brought you some coffee.” Arya said daring to look at him now that the redness had started to abate. She let her eyes flutter over his chest when she thought he was not looking. _Oh shit, he clearly works out_... and scanned the small room hoping he wouldn’t notice her flashing looks as he pulled the shirt over his shoulders. She faintly registered the contents of the room in the background. He stepped towards her extending his hand, shirt still hanging open, bringing his bare chest and ripped abdomen closer to her. Arya nearly forgot she had offered him coffee. In fact she almost forgot to breathe.

“O, here.” She handed him the mug.

Jaqen smiled at her flustered appearance. He knew he had that effect on women but it still amazed him how little effort he actually had to put into it. Slowly he walked to an iron desk that was sitting against the wall and put the mug on it. He turned and gave Arya a smug look slowly pulling the sides of his crisp white shirt together with his huge bronze hands. All she could do was stare. She looked him straight in his bright blue eyes but in her peripheral vision she saw his hands slowly working at the buttons. For a moment she thought her heart was going to stop but then she realized he was playing with her, provoking her, testing her and she realized she had to act on it if she wanted to win his game. Still standing in the doorframe she slowly reached for the coffeecup she had put on the ledge outside earlier and calmly brought it to her mouth without breaking their eye contact.

 _Hm, an unexpectedly interesting retort lovely girl_ . He thought with a sense of awe. He truly wasn’t expecting the resurgence but he managed to suppress any evidence of his fascination to appear on his face. When her eyes became dry she blinked slowly and deliberately looked up at him, first giving him a demure look which she skillfully transformed into a more daring one and decided she liked this game when she saw the faintest leakage of emotion flash across his face. _Good, you like that_ . She looked at his hands which had worked their way up buttoning the shirt up halfway to his ribcage. She registered the slow rise and fall of his tanned and muscular chest. _He might have showed emotion but the man is in total control of his breathing._ It was more than she could say about herself. She was breathing evenly but even she herself could notice it was forced. A lingering of his eyes on her chest showed that he had too. He dropped his hands leaving the top few buttons of the shirt open and sat down on the corner of the iron desk, one leg casually bent, pressing the sole of his boot against the leg of the table. Without looking he reached for the coffee, not grabbing the mug by its ear but wrapping his whole hand around the cup making it look smaller than it actually was and then looked at the dark steaming liquid.

“Varys didn’t make this coffee.”

“No, he didn’t. I did.”

The assassin took a long sip and she saw a smile play around his mouth.

“Maybe we should forget about the hacking and exploit a girl’s skills in the kitchen.” Jaqen joked.

Arya sniggered “That’s pretty much exactly what _the hound_ said.” She realized the arousing stare-off was over. Overall she was happy with her results, except maybe for the blushing.

“So a girl met her discourteous brother. What does she think?”

“Well he is hard to miss in more than one way.” she said taking another sip of the hot coffee.

Jaqen grinned at the understatement.

 

Jaqen’s room was not bigger than the room she was staying in and resembled his workroom in the older wing upstairs. The bare stones and high placed windows gave the space a more earthy feel, like an old convent or a dungeon, cool and dark but light did fall in through the windows. There was a bed which was not made but looked clean and the iron table Jaqen was sitting on and a chair. In the corner of the room were some thick, dark glass bottles and a mortar and pestle. This room also had a hearth and she wondered why one would have need of a hearth in a climate like Mexico’s.

“Is a girl ready to meet her sister?”

_What did The Hound call her? Faye the sour cunt? Oh right, humorless cunt._

“A girl is ready.”

He drank some more of the coffee and placed the cup on the table. Motioning Arya should leave her cup and then follow him, he wordlessly commanded her. It amazed Arya how much the man could say with just a look, the smallest motion of his head or even just his eyes. She left the cup on the ledge and followed him into the hall, her eyes clinging to the movement of  of his back and shoulder muscles under the white shirt. They climbed the stairs and she silently followed him into the hall where she knew Faye stayed 3 doors down from her own room. Jaqen stopped in front of the door and looked Arya in the eyes one more time before knocking. His look almost seemed to say _if you want to escape, do it now._

 

\----

 

When the door opened Arya immediately felt a change in the ambiance. The young women looked at her brother and gave him a reverential nod which was returned and then looked past him at Arya, her face cold and emotionless. Without a word she turned around and walked into her chamber. The old room looked similar to Arya’s but was darker because also the high window had been boarded up. The main source of light came from candles which were placed on the floor lining the walls. It looked like the woman slept on a matress on the floor because there didn’t seem to be a bed. A laptop was running on a bedside table.

“So you are here to help me?” said the older girl with a sarcastic undertone.

Arya nodded.

“Ok, show me what you can do.”

Arya looked at Jaqen who inclined his head almost imperceptibly endorsing her to do as her sister commanded. He turned towards the door but then halted and threw his sister a warning look.

“Dienen, dies ist kein Wettbewerb.”

Again Faye gave her brother a deferential nod. It appeared she was lower in rank and even though Arya didn’t quite understand what Jaqen had told the girl, she understood by his look and his tone that it was meant as a warning. She also inferred from the look on the girl’s face that she was slightly hurt by the remark. Jaqen left the room and shut the door behind him without another word.

It was quiet for a while save for the sound of Faye’s movement as she walked up and down  the dusky room. Quiet, until Faye’s sharp voice cut through the silence.

“Who are you?” she asked without looking at Arya. The question felt more like an insult.

“Arya.”

“And _what_ is it you came to do here?” the girl spat keeping any emotion off her face.

 _So you do know how to hide your emotions..._ “Jaqen said you would explain what needed to be done. He said that you might need some help with your research.” Arya looked over at the computer.

“Is that what he told you? That I might need help?”

Arya realized the girl didn’t want her help. If she would refuse to work with Arya there would be no logical reason for her to stay with the group.

“He said you could teach me things.” she quickly added hoping it would stroke Faye’s ego.

It did, for Arya saw pride flash across the woman’s face. She masked it with an haughty sneer however and sat down on the mattress behind the computer leaving Arya standing in the middle of the dark room somewhat awkwardly. Arya took the opportunity to observe the older girl. Her dark blond hair was cut into a short bobline just above her scrawny shoulders. The light of the laptop gave her already angular face an even more austere appearance. Faye was wearing a black shift identical to the one Arya was wearing, tied with a brown leather belt at the waist. In accordance to what she had noticed before, the young woman’s face and in particular her eyes gave away her real age, for at first glance she looked younger. She realized the small woman almost had the appearance of a child. Faye suddenly looked up at her.

“Well? Are you just going to stand there? she snapped at Arya startling her out of her observation. Arya took a couple of steps towards Faye and sat down next to her on the edge of the mattress tucking her legs under the shift.

Fayes fingers flew across the keyboard summoning up a screen with an IP address.

“Perform an attack on this computer and do it according to the steps.”

Staring at the monitor Arya arranged the information in her head. She set up to discover hosts and devices on the network Faye had called up on the screen and ran a program to scan the network for vulnerabilities in the security. It took her only a couple of minutes to find a vulnerable spot. Arya analysed the security weaknesses in order to see how she could exploit the glitch to gain access to the system. When she found an unprotected printer connected to the network, she decided to use it to try and gain control of the computer system creating a denial-of-service attack. It worked.

“Now pivot it.” Faye said in a bored and unimpressed voice.

Arya used the cracked computer to attack different computers on the network but contrary to what Faye expected, Arya didn’t use a normal proxy pivot attack but a method known as VPN pivoting which enabled her to to create an encrypted layer to tunnel into the compromised printer she had found using it as a scanner to detect other devices connected to the same printer, and attacked those too, effectively infecting them gaining complete control over the entire network as if she were behind the firewall.

Faye was an experienced hacker but in her peripheral vision Arya saw her raise her eyebrow.

“You got lucky. Seems you are little more than a Skid.” Arya bristled at the pejorative. The term Skid or Script Kiddie was a term used under hackers to indicate someone was nothing but an inexperienced child using automated tool scripts to break into computers for fun.

Faye pulled the computer towards her and took over control. She used the preparation work Arya had done and uploaded a bug onto all the computers of the network.

“Let me show you how this is done.” she said with a strong undertone of pride in her voice.

 

\-----

 

Jaqen let out a long breath of smoke. The candle lit room filled with a mist of the scented  herb. 

“And?”

“She’s not ready.”

He looked down at his sister with his cool blue gaze. The tiny woman only reached up to his chest and standing quite close to her brother, she had to look up to look him in the eye. He studied her face and her bearing. When he smoked everything seemed to be magnified; Every emotion, every picayune change in expression, every underlying intention. Time seemed to slow down giving him time to observe the moments between the moments. When he performed the rite and was under the influence of the ritualistic herbs every emotion of every person was as clear to him as if were written in script. His sister had never totally mastered the skill of ruling her face and her intentions as well as she should have, but never before had she failed so brazenly obvious as she did since Arya came to the house. Though it was true that for an untrained person the behaviour of his sister could be mistaken for a permanently bad mood, for the trained assassin, a master in deception detection and focused on every nanosecond to spot a flash of micro expression or emotional leakage, her demeanor practically screamed at him. He knew putting the two women together could wreak havoc but it was a deliberate risk he had decided to take.

“Perhaps she is, perhaps she is not.” he said taking another drag. He kept the aromatic fumes in his lungs waiting for her reply. 

“And what if she is not?”

He slowly let the white tendrils escape from his mouth narrowing his already catlike eyes to slits peering down at his shorter sister who was standing in front of him.

“It is all the same to the Many Faced God.” he said dismissively as he turned and walked to the bed. He sat down and leaned back supporting his weight on his elbow, resting his head against the wall all the while observing his sister who was now left standing in the middle of his room.

“Why do you trust her? Brother, _you_ of all people?” she tried to sound cold, distanced and in control of her emotions. It seemed so obvious to her that letting the wounded girl stay with them put the group at risk.

“A man knows people.” he replied seeing through her emotional shield like it was made of clear glass.

She could almost physically feel the assassin touch her mind. Faye had known her brother for more than 20 years. She knew she would never be able to keep a thing from him, sometimes he knew her thoughts before she even fully formed them in her head. It was one of the reasons she feared him, the overwhelming emotional power he had over people. She looked at her brother one more time, her eyes fixated on him waiting for him to say something more. When he didn’t, she averted her eyes, swallowed while looking at the floor and without a word turned to leave the room.

Jaqen let her leave in silence but had not missed the flash of hurt in his sister’s eyes. When the door clicked into the lock, he closed his eyes and let out a long sigh.

 

\------

 

It had been four days since Arya first found herself in the abandoned hotel with her new ‘friends’. It always amazed her how easily people could adapt to new situations. She had been undercover before and contradictory to what most people think they would feel as they walked straight into the lion’s den, Arya felt alive, not paralyzed by fear. She was good at what she did, a natural really. The reason why the twentyfive year old Stark girl had started working with the CIA was her passion for adventure. The adrenaline, the acting, the danger and the psychology of the people she was dealing with; What drove them to a life like this? were they happy? She tried to empathize with them, understanding why people where were and who they were all fascinated her. The eminent danger for Arya was not being found out because of a slip-up, but that she would internalize her new personality so well that it became a permanent part of her. Playing a person for her meant _being_ that person, that’s why she could convince the very people she was entrapping while looking them straight in the eye as she dragged them into the ambush. Her skill was as valuable as it was dangerous for all of the involved, including the agent herself. Though it rarely happened that undercover agents got so entangled in their role that they could not extricate themselves from it, it did occur occasionally. In only four days she had gotten used to living in the abandoned hotel with Jaqen and his faction.

In the drudgery of everyday life, moments seemed to cluster together as one indistinguishable blur of memory but in new situations time seemed to work a different way; storing the new experiences as individual memories making a couple of days feel like weeks. Even the time she spent alone in the dilapidated hotel room was employed organizing her new impressions, carefully planning the course of action, analyzing the situations that had taken place and deciding who of the people around her could be manipulated into spilling information or bringing her closer to the mission goals.

She had worked with Faye, who had proven to far exceed Arya’s hacking skills. She was an elite hacker who looked down on the younger woman who invaded her professional as well as her personal space. She belittled Arya whenever the situation permitted it and ignored any successful action of the lesser hacker. The source of animosity she blatantly displayed didn’t seem to stem from Arya’s violation of the woman’s professional territory alone. Judging from The Hound’s words about the young woman he worked with, she generally had an acerbic conduct. However Arya did clearly feel there was some kind of rivalry between them which was not entirely based on their individual hacking skills.

Varys seemed to just be there observing, commenting and soothing Arya’s insecurities by craftily answering her questions without really giving any useful information. Arya had cooked a meal in his stead and the others had seemed to enjoy it. Faye hadn’t even commented on the meal which, for her, could be taken as a compliment. The role of the spider in the terrorist network had not yet become more clear to Arya but his clandestinity made her suspect he would make a good spy or was somehow involved in crafting the bigger plot of it all. He seemed to have a lot of information but was reluctant to sacrifice any of it.

Between Varys’ smooth averting, Faye’s indirect insults and Jaqen being a complete enigma, The Hound’s directness was a welcome respite. The gruff brute made her laugh and even seemed to, in his own way, try to make her feel at home, extenuating Faye’s animosity and joking around when Arya looked tired or insecure. He was easy to read. His demeanor didn’t contradict the things he said though she knew he held back information. She decided that she needed time alone with him to get to information from him that she was sure she could not obtain from the others. His role in the network was unclear to her but she imagined someone like him would probably be successful at intimidation or extortion.

And then there was Jaqen, whom she hadn’t seen much after he had set her up to work with his sister. Secretly she hoped he would come up to her chamber to talk or to bump into him in the halls. Deep down Arya knew this longing wasn’t based on fulfilling her mission even though she fervently tried to convince herself that it was the main reason why she was yearning to see the master assassin. What was it about the man, apart from his damnable eyes and his ravishing abs she had seen recently, that made her world tremble? Sure his physique turned her on as a woman, she was sure many women would covet the blue eyed assassin, but that was not the main reason she felt such an unprecedented attraction to him.

She stared unseeingly to a blank spot on the wall trying to find a basis for her rampant feelings when her eyes suddenly grew big when the realization hit her. Arya started biting her lip and then squeezed her eyes shut when she realized what it was in Jaqen that made him irresistible to her; He was the first person she had met who really challenged her. He could do all she could do but infinitely better. Jaqen H’ghar was a master in the art of psychological warfare. He could influence a person’s value system, their beliefs, their motives, reasoning and behavior to favour his own objectives making him the most dangerous person she knew without even having to use a weapon. Which, according to Luwin and Javier, the trained assassin also seemed to excel in. Weapons, close combat and poisons, the terrorist possessed it all. The danger he emanated stirred something inside her that aroused her beyond her control.

Sitting alone on the bed in her temporary quarters she rubbed her eyes realizing she was truly doomed if she would not be able to rule her feelings.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thank you for being here and reading my work! I really appreciate the fact that you are taking time out of your day to read my brain baby. You guys really stimulate me to keep writing.  
> I am very excited because the story is taking form in my mind every day and what started as an E-rated flick idea now actually might become a more serious book. (my appologies to all readers who were just looking for a steamy bedtime story. There will probably be scenes you really enjoy but you will have to be patient and find them between the actual story lines.) That said, please keep reading because I promise I will do my best to keep you captivated. I always enjoy reading comments (and I am open to tips or critique!) so if you have something to say please do.  
> Enjoy your day and hope to see you here for the next chapter!


	12. Busted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go guys; an extra loooong chapter with something for the J/A lovers. It's my way to atone for letting you guys wait :) I went on a trip to Ankara on the weekend and didn't have a lot of time to write. Hope this will make up for it :) Have fun!

The sunlight from the high window on her face woke her on the morning of the fifth day after yet another night without unwanted, or perhaps secretly desired, visits from any of the subversives. Carrying carrying the knives on her person and sleeping with them under her pillow had started to feel like overreacted behavior but the professional side of the agent knew she could never drop her guard. However friendly the people around her seemed, Arya realized that they still were dangerous and incalculable and trusting any one of them could prove to be a deadly mistake. Yawning she got up from the bed and reached for the small blades that she now both kept under her pillow at night. After carefully tucking the blades into the sheath pockets strapped to her body she left the room.

After washing up she went downstairs to find only Sandor sitting at the kitchen table.

“I was hoping you’d come down, I’m dying for a coffee.” he joked in his typically off-hand way. He occupied himself cutting chips out of the wooden kitchen table with a blunt knife.

Arya grinned and walked towards the counter.

“Where is everybody?”

“Well if you don’t count me, _everybody_ had something to take care of together.”

 _Good, so it’s just you and me, time for some digging around with the hound._ This was her chance of getting some information out of the grumpy giant who was now cleaning his fingernails with the same knife he was just utilizing to abuse the table.

“What are they up to?” she asked as she took a jar of ground coffee beans from the cupboard.

“You are asking the wrong person girl, I’m not into that kind of business.”

Arya stopped what she was doing and put the coffee on the counter, turned around and sat down across from the lumbering rogue. Leaning forward she gave him a galvanized look, eyes big with anticipation.

“What kind of business?”

The Hound seemed to hesitate to share a piece of information with her. He looked around the kitchen and then at the door, leaned forward conspiratorially. He motioned her to get closer. Arya leaned closer to hear what he was going to reveal and the hound lowered his voice to a whisper.

“I can’t tell you right now.” he grumbled. Arya looked at him and listened intently.

“Because I haven’t had my fucking coffee yet!”

The girl’s shoulders sagged and she rolled her eyes. “Arrrgh! Alright! I will make you your damn coffee.”

Arya indignantly got up from the table and picked up where she had left off making coffee handling the utensils with a bit more force than was strictly necessary.

Sandor grinned at the girl’s irritation. He had had a weak spot for the newcomer since she had joined the group five days ago. It did not often occur that people openly showed their annoyance with him. Most people avoided confrontation, come to think of it, most people avoided talking to him all together. Arya did not seem repelled by his appearance and even gave the impression to enjoy riling him up a bit. He grinned as he looked at her lithe form moving around in the kitchen.

The room slowly filled with the scent of freshly brewed coffee. Arya poured the steaming liquid into two cups and turned around. An image of Gendry flashed before her mind’s eye and suddenly she felt a strong need to contact her colleague. She realized that if she did not let her team know that she was unharmed and on mission Gendry would probably have a nervous breakdown and they might send a search team out for her. She needed to find a way to let them know without excluding herself from her current position.

“Here.” She handed Sandor a cup and a look of mild disgust appeared on her face when he used the knife he had just used to clean his fingernails to unhandily scoop sugar into his coffee and stir it. _Good thing I don’t use sugar._

“I need to get to my hotel to pick up some stuff and to book out. Can someone take me there?”

"You should ask him.”

“Ask who?”

“Who do you think is in charge of this little petting zoo, _lovely girl_?” he used the epithet to taunt her.

“Jaqen.” There was no use in playing dumb.

“That’s right.”

Both of them were silent for a moment.

“How do you know him?” Arya asked improvising a new strategy in the hopes of getting some useful information.

A pained look appeared on his face and Sandor slightly turned his head. His eyes became empty as he stared at a spot on the table and Arya could see the man’s mind wander into the past. She let him indulge in the reminiscence. It gave her ample time to study his face and she did not have to concentrate very hard to spot infinitesimal signs of hurt, anger and sadness on his partially burned and bearded face.

 _Interesting, such a strong emotional reaction._ She fervently hoped she could get him to disclose the cause of the change in his demeanor. After a moment his mind came back to the present. He sighed and took a long draught of the hot coffee before turning his attention back to Arya.

“If it weren’t for that guy, I would not be sitting here right now.” he said. He scratched his beard and gave her a pensive look. “I owe my life to him.”

It was Arya’s turn to make it easy for The Hound to read her face. She stared at him in disbelief, eyebrows drawn down, mouth slightly agape.

“How?” was the only thing she could utter.

The Hound looked at her unsure how much of the story he should impart to the inquisitive young woman staring at him, her big eyes skittering over his face burning with curiosity.

“Do you think I got these playing with matches?” he finally conceded, pointing at his face with the knife he was still holding.

“I was a soldier in the army. We were on a mission when we busted into a building that was supposed to be a rebel hide-out. Turned out to be a fucking trap. I remember realizing it just before the bomb went off. A couple of the men on the squad got killed, the men outside fled. They left me there for dead.” The hound clenched his jaw staring at the corner of the table, deep lines appeared on his already rough forehead.

Arya didn’t know how long ago this all happened but the Hound’s expression and posture showed that thinking back on it still upset him. She wondered what Jaqen had to do with the incident but she didn’t have to wait long to find out.

“Jaqen was the only one who checked if I was alive.”

“Was Jaqen in the army with you?”

“No he wasn’t with us, he was.... just there.”

“Where?” Arya could hardly contain her curiosity.

Sandor frowned, realizing he had told her too much already. “Another place, another time. It doesn’t matter, it’s in the past.” He mumbled dismissively finishing his coffee. He crossed his arms and leaned back. He took on what Arya recognized as a closed body posture and she knew it would be unwise to meddle and push any further still she could not let this thing go so easily.

“If he wasn’t with you, what was he doing there?” she asked pushing her luck, but Sandor didn’t seem to want to expand on the subject any further.

“Why don’t you ask the guy himself?”

“You said they were busy.”

The large man looked at his watch. “If you cook us up some breakfast they will probably be done by the time we finish eating.”

“What do you think I am, a housewife or something?” The remark was meant as a joke but Arya picked up the faintest of change in her interlocutor's eyes before he answered her.

 _Does he know what I am?_ She thought but she discarded the theory. _Of course not, if he did I’d already be dead._

“Why not? If you don’t do it, Varys will and you know what we’ll be having for breakfast then.”

Arya surrendered. She didn’t feel like beans for breakfast again and she had to admit she was hungry. The time spent waiting would go by faster too if she had something to do. She prepared a spanish potato tortilla on the camping stove with ingredients she found in one of the cabinets.

“So you are a hacker too?” came his gruff voice behind her.

“Yeah.” Lying to the hound was child's play for the trained agent. She put some food on two plates and turned around to sit with Sandor.

“How do you like working with Faye the permanent PMS hacker?” He said forking away at the food while making an impressed face and nodding his approval.

Arya grinned. “I don’t think she likes me a lot.”

“Don’t take it personal.”

“Really, you haven’t seen the way she looks at me.”

“Hm, making progress at least?”

There was a negligible plausibility that Sandor could tell her more about what the goal of it all was.

“Progress? To be honest I am not sure what we are _trying to do_ . She has let me break into several computers. It looks like they are all companies with big networks. We are stealing contacts, emails, install spyware on their systems but I don’t understand why. Faye has taught me a lot of very useful things but she won’t explain anything about _what it is_ we are trying to accomplish. Can you tell me anything about it?”

“Do I look like I understand a thing about computers?”

Arya grimaced, she kind of knew he didn’t concern himself with such things but at least she had tried. Both fell silent and for a moment Arya tried to process what she had just learned from her gruff brother. His voice startled her out of her reverie.

“They are probably done by now.” He said looking at his watch again. “Try his room upstairs. I’ve got this.” he said pointing at the table.

Arya gave him a nod and took her leave after pouring a cup of coffee for Jaqen.

  
\---

 

Walking towards the main hall she remembered the last time she went to meet Jaqen in his bedroom. She felt her cheeks burn thinking back at his bare upper body and the little game they played. _Too bad he is in his workroom, fat chance I will find him there half naked._ She thought when instead of crossing the hall into the opposite corridor she turned to climb the stairs. Bedroom or not, the higher she moved up the stairs, the stronger the writhing feeling in her gut became. At the top of the staircase she composed herself and turned into the old wing. She just had her heartbeat under control again when she saw Jaqen stepping out of his room. He turned his head to face her and waited for her to approach him in the dim corridor.

“I was just on my way to see to you.” she said when she was a few steps away.

“To what does a man owe the pleasure?” he said waiting patiently for her to reach him.

Arya halted in front of the blue eyed man clad fully in black casually leaning against the door frame. It did not look like he was going to move.

“I wanted to ask you some things, can we talk?” she said still holding the cup.

Without saying a word Jaqen stepped slightly aside pushing the wooden door open further providing a narrow space for her to access to his workroom. The gap he allowed her to enter was limited making it impossible for her to pass the assassin without brushing her body passed his. _Is he doing this on purpose?_ As she carefully slipped passed him a combination of sandalwood, spices and coffee surrounded and intoxicated her. Careful not to spill the contents of the cup she was holding she moved into the partially sunlit room almost high on his scent. _Sweet Jesus, he even smells amazing, how haven’t I noticed this before?_ Jaqen closed the door behind them and took the cup of coffee Arya extended to him giving her a small nod indicating his gratitude.

“A girl is taking good care of her companions.” He said taking a sip. “How does she feel about being here?” He put his hand on her shoulder and gently guided her to one of the two chairs.

Arya started to feel her gut starting to twist and turn again. “Well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” she said as she sat down and waited until Jaqen had taken a seat across from her.

“If a girl wishes to leave..” he started with an understanding look but Arya cut him short.

“No, that’s not what I wanted to say. My ticket back to the States isn’t until a couple of days. I am learning a lot and I would like to stay and learn more but I am still booked into a hotel. I need to book out before the personnel become alarmed. I haven’t been back there for days, what if they report me missing? I also would really like to get some clothes and stuff.”

Jaqen squinted at her. “A girl wants to stay. Good. There is still a lot more to learn.”

His look made her bashful. She noticed the way his eyes enlarged when he said ‘good’. She always studied his face so closely that she could call up his mannerisms in her head when she was alone, heard his voice echo in her mind and now that she had recorded his scent she was sure it would haunt her even when he was not around.

“About that.” Arya started carefully referring to what Jaqen said was more to be learned. She knew asking about what it was the terrorist cell was trying to accomplish was dangerous business but she wanted to know how deep this rabbit hole really went. She did not expect him to openly state their business but she boldly decided to venture anyway.

“What is it we are trying to do?”

The assassin appraised her for a moment but then leaned forward resting his lower arms on his knees, bringing his face closer to hers. A whiff of his scent set her sensory organs on edge. He intently looked into her eyes seeming to assess her. Arya did not blink but could not help but let her eyes flutter over his unshaven face. Her eyes wandered to his full lower lip on their own accord. It cost her effort to direct them back to his eyes but the solemnity in his gaze made her snap out of her indecent state. When he answered the gravity of his words astonished her.

“Too much power is in the hands of people whose intentions cause destruction.” He paused to emphasise the importance of his words. “We have to make them stop.”

Arya swallowed. She had assessed he would answer her with one of his incomprehensible conundrums and was not prepared for such a serious reply. She scanned his face, her eyes skittering across his handsome countenance.

“What people?” her words were almost a whisper.

“That.” his eyebrow shot up and he consecutively narrowed his eyes “is what a girl must find out.”

A frown appeared on Arya’s brow as she studied his eyes, waiting for clarification but none came. Instead he decided to answer another of her questions.

“As for your things, a man will send a brother this afternoon to bring a girl to her hotel. If a girl has need of anything else she needs only to tell this brother and he will see to it.”

_What brother? He surely isn’t talking about sending me back to the hotel with The Hound if they see me there with him someone will call the cops for sure. Andreas maybe...?_

The sound of footsteps followed by a soft knock at the door robbed Arya from a chance to ask for more details about her upcoming trip to the hotel. Jaqen got up and walked passed her to open the door. Though she was seated with her back towards the door she could hear Varys’ silky voice whisper something she could not make out.

“A man must leave for a moment. A girl may wait in her room.”

Arya got up and followed Varys and Jaqen into the main hall. After giving the girl a polite nod, the two companions proceeded down the stairs as Arya stalked into the corridor where her own room was located. A multitude of thoughts were battling for attention in her head and Arya started to walk slower and slower until she finally stood still in the middle of the hall. Her heart started to pound in her chest as her hazardous plan took shape in her head. In his room Arya had noticed the laptop open on Jaqen’s desk, he had clearly been using it and though his computer was undoubtedly off limits, Arya realized that some vital information for her own mission might just be on that particular computer. She nervously started to bite her lip weighing out the risks of the plan and the possible gain for her mission. Finally she took a deep breath, turned around and walked back to the room she just came from.

 

\---

 

Arya knocked on the thick wooden door and waited, there was no answer so she slowly pushed against it and it cracked open. She peeped her head inside to check if there was really no one there. The door squeaked when she pushed it further. She grimaced, bit her lip and quickly looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was there to hear it. When she was sure she was alone she stepped inside and silently closed the door behind her.

She went straight for the laptop that still sat open on the desk, slowly sitting down on the chair behind the desk facing the door. If Jaqen would only be gone for a minute he would have told her to wait here, not in her own room. She figured she had time but she needed to be quick about it. She pushed the space bar. The screen flickered on and showed two options. She could access the guest account but the main account was locked with a password. She entered the guest account and tried to hack into the main account by gaining access to the admin preferences through the guest account. Her first attempt failed and she had to restart the computer. “Come on” she whispered. She tried again and this time it worked the way she wanted.

In the files she found a couple of folders that she thought could contain clues. She wouldn’t have time to check all of them before Jaqen would come back so instead she just quickly opened some of the folders in search of something that appeared it had recently been opened or that looked like it could hold some clues. Some of them contained word files with long texts in a language that she could not identify. It didn’t look like any script or language she had ever seen. There was only one that was in English which seemed to be about some kind of order, she skimmed through the texts reading; ‘freemasons, principal elder, elimination of identity and Black and White’.

Another folder read ‘unfinished’ Arya opened the folder to find images and more files. The text files in this folder were encrypted, so she decided to try opening the jpegs to save time. Most of the files seemed to have been damaged and wouldn’t open but there was one that did. It appeared to be a scan of an actual photograph that looked tattered because the colors had changed and one side of the picture was faded. On the other side though she could faintly make out the shape of a hooded man standing in a doorframe. There was no time to go into detail. She checked for other files and found a video. After making sure the volume was turn down, she double clicked it.

It was a video of 9 minutes but the first 5 minutes was just black screen. Arya forwarded and just as she was about to close the player there was a rustle. An image popped up that matched the one on the picture. A hooded person in a grey cloak, a man judging by the size, was standing in a doorframe looking out over a city. The image was shot from inside looking out. The doorframe, as now became clear to her, was the entrance to a house that had been destroyed. The wall on the right side, the side of the photograph that was still clear enough to make out, was still standing but on the left it had spalled and crumbled. Through the doorframe and past the rubble, the city beyond was destroyed too. It looked like a bomb had gone off. The man looked over his shoulder. Though his face was half hidden under the cowl of his grey robe, she could see he was old, his hair thin and grey and his face full of lines. There was a distinct look of worry on his face. He turned back to the city and reached for his face. When he turned back to the camera his countenance had changed.

_What the…._

Arya frowned, paused the video, rewound it and checked it again. The man turned and looked straight into the camera. His face was younger, in his thirties with a short dark hair and a dark brown beard. Also this face displayed worry. The man said something, she saw his lips move but couldn’t make out the words, then the screen turned black again and she saw her own frowning confused face reflecting back at her.

Arya was just about to play the video again with the sound turned up a bit when she heard footsteps approaching in the hall. It was too late to run now, it would only raise suspicion. As quick as she could she closed all the files and put the computer back in slumber mode. She silently got up from the chair and picked up the cup she had brought Jaqen before. She had to somehow deal with this in a casual way without Jaqen noticing her true reason to be there. On the way to the room she had practiced this in her head and although her heart was pounding in her chest she tried to keep her cool.

 

The door opened and Jaqen stepped inside. He looked at Arya with a blank expression not seeming surprised to find her standing in the middle of the room holding the empty coffee cup. Arya on the other hand had to try her very best to suppress the shock when she saw him. Jaqen was wearing a grey cowled robe tied together with a brown leather belt. A robe that exactly resembled the one she had seen only seconds ago on the back of the man who had changed his face in the video. Jaqen did not seem to be wearing anything underneath at least on his torso because his neck and clavicles were visible and Arya wondered why the hell she even noticed such a detail in the situation she got herself into.

“Why are you here?” he asked in a dangerously low voice, face cold and without any emotion.

Arya remembered her training and reacted without hesitation. “I thought I had left something here, I came back to get it. Should I have asked first?” she replied without betraying her guilt. She ruled her emotions and her face remarkably.

Jaqen’s expression did not change; he just stared at her with a blank gaze.

“Why are you dressed like that?” she asked while looking him up and down, she tried to make it sound as casual as possible trying to change the subject.

He didn’t answer but seemed to gauge her. The silence made her uncomfortable.

“If you stay long enough you might find out.” He finally purred as he languidly moved to close the heavy wooden door.

The fact that he didn’t speak in the third person made his words more intimidating since she felt more than before that they were directed at her. She felt trapped as the heavy door clicked into its lock and his answer to her question did not appease her but instead made her feel even more uneasy. She realized this was what was meant by wrong place, wrong time and slowly the thought that she was also with the wrong person started to creep up on her. However irresistible she thought the assassin was, he had caught her sneaking around on his territory and had now locked her in his world.

Arya let her hands slowly slide behind her back where she fumbled to find her dagger she had tucked into its sheath pocket between her shoulderblades without him noticing, all the while not breaking their eye contact. Her heart started racing even more frantically when to her horror she realized it was not there.

Jaqen stood across from her less than 3 meters away his eyes boring into hers and it was like they were on fire. His broad body was blocking her way to the door and her eyes shot around the room frenziedly in search of a possible escape route. Spotting no way out of the small room Arya stared back at Jaqen bewildered and panting through her slightly opened mouth. _Fuck, where is that dagger?_ He gave her a strange half-smile as he deliberately let his eyes dart infinitesimally toward his left hand and back to her flushed face. She followed the path of his eyes and took in a sharp breath at her discovery.

He had stretched his arm out alongside his body and produced a dagger in the palm of his opened hand. The dagger lay flat in his palm and he was keeping it in place by holding the hilt with his ring finger. The blade was glistening in his outstretched palm, she closed her eyes for a fraction of a second and swallowed when she recognized the hilt identifying the knife that she thought she had strapped to her back. Her heart sank when she realized that he must have taken the dagger as she brushed past him into the room. Meaning that he had known of her plans even before she had even given them shape in her own head. Her large eyes shot back to his face in horror when he spoke.

“What was a girl planning on doing with this?” he breathed in his hoarse tone not releasing her with his eyes.

Arya swallowed, she realized it would be a grave mistake to lie to him now. She was already out of her normal state and would in no way pull off a successful inflection of the truth.

“I keep it to protect myself” she said, her words no louder than a whisper.

It was not a lie.

“Smart girl, but it isn’t much good if you are unable to hold onto it.” Jaqen said, his blue eyes piercing hers from under his brow.

He casually threw the dagger behind him in the opposite corner of the room where it came down with a clatter. The deafening sound in the small room made Arya flinch. Jaqen took a step towards her.

“Give me the other one.” He commanded her in a calm tone.

She realized she had lost his game, not only had he already taken away one of her daggers without her noticing, he had somehow also detected the other blade that she carried on her person.

Arya stood frozen to the floor unable to decide what to do. Again, lying was no option but reaching for the knife she had strapped to the inside of her thigh and submissively handing it over to him was not something she was inclined to do. A third option would be him taking the blade from her by force, the last option seemed to her to be the least appealing one and unlikely to bring her closer to a successful escape. Jaqen waited patiently observing her thoughts fighting each other to come to the most sensible alternative. He decided to make things easier for her.

“If a girl gives me the knife, a man will let her leave.” he lazily took another step.

Arya instinctively shuffled backwards until her back touched the cold stone wall. Jaqen’s half lidded eyes almost seemed to emit light in the partially sunlit room as he stared at her. How could someone be so terrifying and yet so incredibly irresistible at the same time she wondered as she looked at his clavicle bones protruding from his robe.

“Be a good girl, give it to me” Jaqen whispered, languidly stepping yet closer.

The two where now only half a meter apart and Arya had to tilt her head up at him to keep looking into his eyes.

He ran out of patience.

When again she failed to make a move he was upon her in a second. Before she knew what was happening he had pushed her against the cold stone wall pinning her with his body. She couldn’t keep looking him in the eye for her own face only reached up to his shoulder, neither could she slip past him; he had put his hands up against the wall behind her on either side of her slender frame.

She was trapped.

She silently hoped that he was bluffing about knowing where she kept her second weapon but trying to reach for it now would give away its position and it was likely he would be faster than her going for it. Besides, what would she do if she did get a hold of it, plunge it into his chest, his back? Despite her extensive training there was nothing she could do right now. He was much bigger and stronger than her (and as she had just noticed also faster) and even though her hands were free, there was no way she would be able to stop him from whatever he had in mind. All she could do was wait for Jaqen’s next move while trying desperately not to panic.

He kept her like that, trapped between the cold stone and his warm solid body, for an excruciating long time before he slowly bent his head and brushed her ear with his nose. Arya couldn’t suppress a shiver feeling his warm breath on the sensitive skin of her neck. Not surprisingly he had noticed her reaction, she was sure of it. She desperately tried to keep her breathing even but failed and started to take ragged irregular breaths. Jaqen on the other hand was breathing evenly and calm despite the lightning fast move he had just performed to pin her down. The heat of his body slowly began radiating through her clothes. She started to feel lightheaded as her rapidly successive thoughts and feelings were racing through her mind and body. _Focus,_ she thought, _for god sake, focus._

She felt his lips against the shell of her ear when he whispered

“The shiv lovely girl, a man is asking nicely.”

With his body so firmly pressed against hers, he felt her right hand twitch in the direction of her right thigh. The movement was barely perceptible but since his focus was on it, it was not missed by the assassin. Beyond her visual field the corner of his mouth curled up in a malicious smirk. He had not been bluffing about knowing she had another weapon on her but she had now unknowingly given away it’s location on her body of which he had not been certain.

He leaned back to look at her. She had cast her eyes down to avert his gaze and prevent him from seeing her flustered appearance. Jaqen slowly moved his right hand to her chin and used his thumb and index finger to tilt her face forcing her to look up at him.

When he stared into her big storm gray eyes framed with thick dark lashes he felt something stir within him that he could not quite name. He could detect the fear in her eyes but at the same time she managed to look at him with an audacity he admired. Knowing that he frightened her made him feel ambiguous. On one hand he didn’t want her to be afraid of him but it made him feel powerful to see the fear behind the reflection of himself in her eyes. The way her body reacted to his had not gone by him unperceived and he also noticed how he himself failed to keep total control of his body reacting to hers, yet he ruled his face admirably and just gave her a interrogating look.

He had now also taken his left hand off the wall leaving Arya a hint of a possibility to escape him.

She didn’t.

He imminently brought his face closer until his eyes were leveled with hers. Her knees started to feel weak as her eyes moved to his full lower lip on their own accord and she swallowed. Since his arms were no longer locking her in place she could have used this opportunity to dart to the side and make a run for the door, but it was as if her feet were nailed to the floor and she was unable to spur herself into action. His lips now almost touched hers and she could sense his breath on her face. She felt like a prey being stalked by her predator and the adrenalin that her body released seemed to put all her senses on edge. She could feel better, her hearing improved and her sense of smell seemed to spike. In their extreme proximity the smell of sandalwood and spices made her head spin. She recognized the spices but but her head was twirling and she couldn’t make out if she felt hot or cold let alone name the spices her assailant smelled like. Her eyes fluttered as she tried to focus.

Arya jolted as she felt his cool palm on the inside of her thigh just above her knee. Jaqen could feel her hitching breath on his lips and suppressed a smile. Tantalizingly slowly he dragged his hand up between her legs until he reached the make-shift sheath of the dagger he already knew he would find there. Arya almost fainted feeling the assassin’s rough fingers trace the inside of her leg so close to her core, her body sending surges of blood there that made her throb almost painfully. Jaqen could feel the heat radiating off of her while his fingers deftly unsheathed the heated dagger and as he pulled it out from under her skirt he consciously let the flat of the blade skim the inside of her bare thigh all the while pinning her in place with his maddening gaze. He saw the hairs on her arms stand up.

She faltered as he withdrew his right hand from her chin and he placed his left hand with the dagger against the wall preventing her from stumbling. She heard the knife tick against the grey stone as he did. He leaned in and brought his face to the side of hers again.

“Did a girl find what she was looking for?” he breathed huskily into her ear.

Arya suppressed a shiver. With all that had passed in the short span of time she had almost forgotten what she told him she was here for in the first place.

“Yes” she whispered almost inaudibly, eyes closed.

 

Jaqen pushed off the wall and stepped away from her in one fluent movement leaving her cold and feeling exposed. Her eyes flew open.

“A girl should leave then, a man has work to do.” His voice was hoarse but his tone had changed. It was almost like he somehow tried to compose himself.

He flipped her dagger so that he was holding the blade and extended her the hilt.

“Take it with you lovely girl, so you can protect yourself.” He mocked her with a tone of disdain in his voice.

She extended her hand trying not to tremble. When she gripped the hilt he did not let go of the blade for a moment but inclined his head and gave her a warning look. She looked back with big eyes waiting for him to say something but he slowly opened his hand and released her weapon. Arya clutched the blade to her chest, hesitated for a second and then slipped past him stumbling to the corner of the room where she picked up her other blade. She whirled around like could be expected of someone with an enemy behind them but Jaqen had not moved and his back was still toward her. Arya opened the door, paused there for a second but when Jaqen did not move she scampered out and quickly closed the door behind her.

She scurried through the hall until she reached the corner and whirled around it smacking her back into the stone wall trying to regain her breath. Her heart was racing, she felt a strange tingling in her fingers, heard her blood pumping in her ears and her head felt like it was filled with cotton. She took a couple of deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself down. After a minute she regained her composure and quickly slipped back to her own room.

  
In the dusky room Jaqen turned around almost in slow-motion and gazed at the closed door. He indolently moved toward the desk, sank down in the chair and stared at the laptop. _Venturesome girl, your audacity never stops to amaze a man._ He had noticed the sign of recognition and surprise in her eyes when she had watch him come in dressed in his cowled robe. _A girl has seen._ He rubbed his face with his hands, let them drop flat onto the table and let out a long breath.

 

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey people thank you for reading. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. I have actually started with this chapter and then wrote the beginning so I have been meaning to weave the parts together which took longer than expected. (like 5 chapters longer than I thought it would take)  
> Please let me know what you think about this part, it makes my day to read your comments! And if you like my story you can subscribe if you like so you will get notified when a new chapter comes out. My goal is to write every week but that clearly didn't work for this chapter. Stay tuned for what will happen next.


	13. A Roadtrip To Rebellion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, you have made it to the 13th chapter. I hope you are enjoying the story still.  
> A lot of writers of FF stories post links to music and I have ever done that but the music I was listening to when I wrote the road trip it sets the mood so well that I will do it this time :)  
> I will paste the link underlined in the story so you can click it when you feel like listening :)  
> Please tell me how that worked for you so I can decide if it's something that's useful!

For the last couple of days Arya had been hoping to bump into Jaqen or for him to come and talk to her but since their encounter of mere minutes ago, she would do anything to avoid just that. After catching her breath she had directly gone to her room and tried to get some kind of order in the chaotic web of thoughts that had just been complicated by the most recent incident.

In one day she had learned that Jaqen had saved Sandor’s life, that the cell of assassins apparently aimed for powerful people whose motives caused _some kind_ of destruction, she had found a video of a man who had seemed to change his countenance and Jaqen had just scared the living life out of her by stealthily taking away one of her knives and damn near seducing her out of the other.

 _That was a close call_ . She thought still trying to get her breathing back to normal. _Jesus I have to be more careful._ But she also noticed the dampness between her thighs. _I haven’t completely messed up governing my face but I can’t control my damn body around him._ She suddenly remembered Dr. Ekman’s words;

_“Lust is a very strong basic instinct that is hard to suppress, so are anger and fear. Provoked in the right way there is a chance you can break through his emotional shield.”_

Her heart skipped a beat when she realized what was happening. _He is doing it to me!_ She suddenly felt insecure. _Have I given away something I shouldn’t have? What is it about him that completely destroys my equilibrium? He did not seem to be affected the way I am. Maybe he’s not attracted to me at all._ She realized she was not thinking constructively and changed her track of thought. _If he can do it, I can too. Men are normally the weaker sex when it comes to seduction. He might be a master of emotions but he can’t be made of stone._ She made her resolution and decided that she needed to spend her thoughts on more pressing matters.

 _What the hell was that video about? Should I take it serious as evidence? Maybe it was just a movie trailer? “Yeah right stupid, THAT must be what they are upto in between assaults, recording a fucking movie.”_ the derisive voice in her head mocked her. _Then what the hell? Jaqen was wearing the same robe!_ She looked down at her own shift and realized she was wearing a same kind of garment. _Elimination of identity. A kind of cult...something occult...Pagan? Shamanistic?_ She pinched the bridge of her nose in an attempt to think clearer but to no avail. She had no idea what to make of the video and the strange texts she had seen and came to the conclusion she needed to look into the subject to be able to make anything of the mysterious recording.

 _I have to find out who they are after. Maybe I can prevent assassinations if I can just find out who they are targeting._ Before she could give it any further thought there was a knock at the door. Arya had been so engrossed in her thoughts that she nearly jumped off the bed.

_Please let it be anyone but Jaqen._

She took a deep breath to compose herself and got up to open the door.

 

To her surprise it was not Jaqen nor the hound but a short man with a thick mop of curly black hair standing in front of her door. His curious dark brown eyes were sparkling as he regarded her. He had a black goatee which was marbled with white and taking a better look at the foreign looking man she noticed his hair had also started to grey at the edges. He was dressed in a neat black shirt and jacket and he was holding a black plastic bag.

“Uh, hello. Who are you?” Arya asked feeling relieved she wasn’t confronted with Jaqen for the moment.

The man took a theatrical bow and looked up at her from his bent position.

“Your driver, Syrio.” he spoke with a thick accent which sounded like a mix between Greek and Spanish.

Arya raised her eyebrows in surprise. “My….driver.”

“Our brother told me a certain lovely girl needed to be taken to a hotel, is that not so?” he said rising back to his modest full height. He was only half a head taller than Arya.

“Ah, yes... yeah I do need to go to my hotel. So you are going to take me?”

“Of course. But we need to make some small alterations to your outfit before we can leave.” He handed her the bag. “Unless you are of a mind to go out like this.” He pointed at the black shift Arya had been wearing day and night for the past couple of days.

Arya looked inside the bag and saw it contained clothes.

“Should I…” she looked at her shift, the contents of the bag, at Syrio and then over her shoulder into her room.

“Yes, take your time, I will wait for you in the courtyard.” he said with a friendly smile, his eyes sparkling under his dark eyebrows. He gracefully turned around and walked towards the main area. It almost looked there was a kind of optimistic determination in his step.

A bit dumbfounded Arya backed into her room and closed the door.

She supposed it made sense for her to change. It would look strange if she showed up at the hotel wearing the monastic outfit she almost got used to after wearing it for so long. She emptied the contents of the plastic bag on the bed and found a pair of jean shorts, a black tank top, a thin white top with a wide neckline and a pair of beautiful sandals with turquoise beads and stones. There was a smaller bag which contained a set of lace panties and a bra. These are gorgeous but...jesus...where did this stuff come from? Whoever bought this expects me to put it on? She didn’t really have a choice. It was the set of clothes from the bag or the shift and underwear she had been wearing for days, sure she had washed the underwear under cold water in the washroom but she was dying for a really clean set and all of these clothes looked and smelled new though there were no tags on any of them. She quickly took off the shift and underclothes and slipped into the clothes Syrio had brought her. They fit her perfectly. _Who picked these clothes? Faye? Impossible._ _None of the men would have been able to get the sizes right_ she thought, although maybe Varys might have come close. She didn’t expect him to get her the lace underwear though. The tank top was snug and the white top she put over it asymmetrically hung down her right shoulder neatly covering the scar on the opposite side. She shrugged. She liked the outfit, it was something she would wear although for the occasion the hotpants were a bit on the short side. _What the hell, we are in Mexico after all_ she thought as she went for the door.

Coming down the stairs she saw Sandor sauntering toward the staircase but when he noticed her he ceased whatever it was he was doing and gave her a stupefied look.

“What the fucking hell happened to you?” he said looking her up and down his eyes lingering on her bare legs.

“What do you mean _happened to me_?” she replied ignoring his stare. “I put on some clean clothes if that’s what you mean. You should try it.” she mocked him referring to the ragged state his own clothes were in. She never saw him wear a religious outfit like she herself and the rest of the radicals were wearing but his worn-out outfits were fashionable nor particularly clean at all. If she had to describe him she’d say he probably worked in a garage.

Her remark shut him up, or maybe it was the length of her pants that did it, she didn’t care and proceeded down and towards the courtyard.

“Where are you going?” he mumbled a bit baffled while he slowly turned around following her lilt form with his eyes.

Arya had to suppress a giggle when she looked at his stunned face as she strutted past him.

“Syrio is taking me to my hotel. Don’t worry, I’ll be back.” she declared walking toward the patio doors that led to the courtyard not bothering to look back at him.

“Syrio? You are not going like that are you?” his voice now almost sounded worried and a deep frown appeared on his forehead.

Arya whirled around catching his eyes levelled just below her waist. They shot up and he saw how she raised an eyebrow and smirked at him. He sounded just like her father.

“I didn’t realize how attached you had become to that black shift.” she joked and turned back around to open the doors to the patio. “If you really can’t do without, Faye is wearing the same.” he heard her say before she closed the doors behind her. She could see Syrio standing under a tree a bit further on, his back turned towards her.

Rendered speechless the hound confusedly scratched his beard and watch the girl walk toward the curly haired man.

 

“I’m ready to go.”

Syrio turned around and gave her broad smile. Arya did not need to apply her training to see his smile was genuine. It reached his sparkling eyes and crow's feet lined the sides. His straight white teeth showed, appearing even whiter due to the dark beard that framed his lips.

“Ah, yes. Very good, let’s go then. You look perfectly dressed for a day in the Mexican sun.” he said as he offered her his arm.

For a second Arya hesitated but then she hooked her arm into his and he led her to the iron gate in the far right corner of the beautiful courtyard. From the windows she had seen the gate but it had looked so overgrown that it could not be used, however now that she got closer she saw that there was a smaller door hidden behind a curtain of vines. Syrio pushed the vines aside and unlocked the smaller door with a key. He let Arya pass and stepped outside himself, then he locked the door behind them.

 

Outside Arya saw an old green Chrysler parked in the shade of a tree. Syrio courteously opened the passenger door and gently motioned her to get into the car.

“Your ride, señorita.” he said with a bow.

She complied with a smile and took a seat. Syrio closed the door and strolled over to the driver’s side.

“Where would you like me to take you child?” he said in his strange accent making the R roll.

 _Child?_ “ I’m staying at the Ramada.”

“Ramada is where we are headed then.” Arya giggled at the way he pronounced the hotel’s name. Even more than Varys, this man made her feel comfortable and way more off-guard than she knew was acceptable. She was on mission but she felt like she was going on a road trip with one of her friends. _What is it with this group of terrorists that makes them so damn likable?_ She had only known Syrio for less than half an hour but she felt so at ease with him. _Maybe I am losing my edge_ , she thought a bit worried. She had become friendly with people she had to spy on in other undercover operations but never before had she had such a strong feeling of belonging to a group she was supposed to neutralize. She bit her lip as she looked out of the window.

Her driver started the engine of the old Chrysler and they drove into the abandoned town. It was the first time she actually saw the surroundings of the venue she had held up in for days. She was determined to find out the name of the town so she would be able to report it to her team when she had the chance.

“Enjoying the view girl?” Syrio asked looking at his passenger. He had noticed she had been preoccupied with her thoughts.

“Yeah, I’ve been here for days but I haven’t been outside at all. What is this town?”

Syrio shrugged. “It’s just an abandoned town like so many in Mexico.”

“Are _you_ Mexican?”

The curly haired man laughed. “Nine years Syrio Forel lived in the dangerous neighborhoods of Mexico city. He knows many things. Like the way to your hotel girl.”

“But you are not Mexican?”

“Cyprus.” is all he said. As he turned on the radio. ([Yom - Everywhere home](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=af9IvC3iXGc))

They had exited the abandoned township and were now driving on a red dusty road leaving the ghost town behind them. The old chrysler was swaying down the bumpy land road engine purring. All that was to be seen were low dry bushes and cacti in the vast red desert. The warm Mexican afternoon sun shone on the side of Arya’s face and she suddenly realized how much she had missed being outside. For a moment she forgot all about the mission and just let the movements of the car and the warmth of the sun take her away. She leaned back in the leather seat and closed her eyes.

The Cypriot glanced at her sideways and smiled contently. _That’s right, sleep sweetness._

 

When Arya woke up they were already driving into the city center.

She cursed inwardly. How the hell had she fallen asleep? She had only closed her eyes for a second. Her plan had been to mind the road so she could report on where the hideout was located. Fuck, the way back then.

“You should go to bed earlier.” Syrio joked throwing her an amused glance.

“How long have I been asleep for?” an attempt to get an idea of how long they had been driving.

“Long enough for you to be well rested I hope. There she is, the Ramada.” They turned and indeed saw the hotel on the corner in the distance.

“I lost the room key, I hope it won’t be a problem.” Arya said realizing the hotel key got stolen with the rest of the contents of her bag.

“We will see.” Syrio replied skillfully parking the car in a too small spot.

“You park as smoothly as you drive.”

Arya hopped out of the car parked across from the hotel. She started walking to the entrance, curious if Syrio would stop or follow her.

He did the latter though he gave her some space. He would let her handle the reception.

 

The desk clerk’s eyes betrayed him when he saw her walking in. He looked behind her to see if anyone was following her. His eyes flew back to Arya’s when he spotted the curly haired man and shot her questioning look. She nodded her head. Of course her colleagues had briefed the staff.

“Señorita, welcome back.” the clerk said with a hint of nervousness in his smile. Syrio had walked in and sat down on a bench facing the reception desk. “Excuse me for my curiosity but, we haven’t seen you for a couple of days. Is everything alright?”

“Yes.” Arya said staring at the man her eyes full of meaning.

“I am great. Stayed with a couple of friends for some days. Thank you for your concern, very kind of you to ask.” she smiled while she spoke.

“I have one little problem though, I seem to have lost my room key.”

“These things happen, though I am afraid I do have to charge you for supplying a new one. It’s in our regulations.” The clerk said jotting something down on a piece of paper. He took a business card out and pushed it and the paper toward her on the counter. Since Arya’s back was toward her chaperone they kept the exchange out of his sight.  

“I understand.” she said taking the piece of paper which read ‘W _e will pass on the info_.’ and Gendry’s business card.

“Please read this and sign here for a new key please.” the clerk said loud enough for Syrio to hear, it was clear he tried to hide his uneasiness with a polite smile.

Arya quickly scribbled something on the note.

“Thank you so much. I will go to my room now and grab my things. I’m checking out today.”

“Of course miss, I will get your bill ready. Do you need help with anything?”

“No thank you, I will be fine. My friend will help me.” she said indicating at Syrio realizing she would not be going up to her room alone.

Upon hearing the words the man got up and started walking toward the counter.

The clerk gave Arya a new key card and a polite nod. “If there is anything you need, feel free to call the reception.” His words were meant as an escape route.

“Thank you.” Arya said with a smile that was meant to reassure the nervous employee.

Arya met Syrio halfway and they turned towards the elevators.

 

Mentally Arya made a list of things she had in her room and realized having a gun among her things might raise suspicion. Maybe her supervisor would give her some privacy and she would be able to pack the weapon unseen. If not she would have to make up another story. Arya pressed the button for the second floor. She smiled at Syrio as the elevator came in motion.

“Thank you for taking me here and sorry for sleeping most of the ride. I was planning to be more social, I don’t know what happened.” she excused herself. “Tell me something about yourself.”

Syrio returned her smile with a genuine one of his own. _He looks so friendly and kind, I wonder what is under his guise._ Syrio was a small man but he had a strong build. If she would be of a mind to escape he could probably stop her easily. Not that she wanted to. Her aim was to get back to the snakepit she had infiltrated so nicely. Her list of people who were involved with the terrorist cell kept getting longer. Names and faces, their connections, strengths and weaknesses. Their responsibilities and their rank in the group, the background stories and all the extra info she had gathered about them, she locked all of the information in her mind.

The clerk would make sure her team would get her message then she would have one less thing to worry about and could concentrate better on her mission. If only she would have a name or any kind of indication of where she was holding up.

“Oh my story is not so exciting at all. I am but a humble servant of a greater cause. And right now I am here to help you, or so I’ve heard you say.”

“Well aren’t you? Jaqen said...”

“Naturally sweetness. Let’s get on with it so we still have time to go out into the city.”

Arya gave him a confused look.

“You said you haven’t been outside for days, now that we are out, we should make the most of it. Don’t you agree?”

The elevator reached the second floor and the pair stepped into the hall. Room 24 was located in the middle of the corridor. Arya spotted the security camera in her peripheral like she had spotted the one in the elevator and knew it was mere hours before Gendry and Javier would be analyzing the images and checking the man’s background. She felt a feeling of triumph but at the same time she felt….guilt?

 

A soft beep and a blinking green light indicated her room key was accepted and she stepped into the room where she had not spent more than a couple of hours before leaving for the club. Syrio stepped in behind her and softly closed the door.

“Are you saying we can go out into the city for the rest of the evening?”

“Anywhere a girl wants to go, isn’t that what your master has said? I also have my orders.

May I?” Syrio pointed at the bed and sat down when Arya indicated he could sit.

“Let me get my things ready.” she said as she started to collect her clothes and put them in a small suitcase.

The dark brown eyes of her Cypriote companion followed her moving through the room.

When Arya walked into the bathroom to collect her things there she realized that she hadn’t had a real shower for days. She had washed herself and her clothes with cold water and soap but she was dying for an actual shower. Would her chaperone assent? The only way to find out was to ask.

“Would you mind if I take a quick shower? There is no hot water where we are staying and I’m dying to wash my hair.”

The man smiled at her picking up a magazine from her bedside table. “Of course, take your time. I will be right here.” He started flicking through the pages.

Arya dragged her suitcase into the bathroom with her, preventing Syrio from going through her belongings, and locked the door. She looked in the mirror and took a deep breath. So far so good. If only there were a telephone in the bathroom so she could call her team. `Alas, a note would have to do for now. She took a pen and scribbled down some information on a piece of paper, neatly folded the note and put it in her wallet. She turned on the shower and started going through her stuff in the luggage. The small black Ruger LC9 handgun was still where she’d left it in a secret compartment of the suitcase. Due to its small size it was easy to conceal but not in the outfit she was wearing so she decided to leave it where it was for now.

Then she undressed in front of the mirror and looked at the scar on her shoulder which had been neatly hidden under the top. It was healing better than she would have expected, certainly after falling a second time and messing up the stitches from the first time Jaqen fixed her up.

_Jaqen…._

Somehow she wished he had taken her out today, a silly thought of course, but still. A day outside with the master assassin. She shuddered at the thought of their last encounter. With a Cypriote in her hotel room there was no time to linger on the thought.

She quickly stripped the rest of her clothes and looked at the blue lace set of underwear. In the dim room back at her ‘other hotel’ she hadn’t had a good look at the delicate lingerie but in the bright light of the Ramada hotel bathroom she could see that it was absolutely gorgeous. The fabric was a of a deep blue and turquoise hue with lighter stitchings, sexy but stylish. It was more beautiful than any of the pieces she owned. Who had picked this? She took the underwear off much more careful than she had put it on and finally stepped under the shower.

It felt so good to take a shower after days of trying to clean herself with cold water. Today came to her like such an outing after five days in the dark ruins. She knew Syrio was waiting for her but Arya took her sweet time letting the hot water wash away all the dirt and the stress she had been under the past days. When she was thoroughly clean and her hair smelled like orange blossom she left the shower and dried herself off in front of the bathroom mirror. She combed her hair and even rubbed on a light scented body cream. She was going to enjoy this evening out even if it was without Jaqen.

When she stepped out of the bathroom all bright eyed and bushy tailed Syrio was still lounging on the double bed reading a book. His thick black eyebrows raised as he regarded her from behind what she now saw was the bible.

“Do you read this?” he asked holding up the book.

“Ah, no. Well I have read it, when I was younger.” her parents had never really pushed any of their children towards a specific religion.

“Do you believe it?”

“I have never really interested myself in religion, nor have I had a need for it.” she replied shrugging but when she turned around to get her suitcase she suddenly realized this was a chance to find out more about the strange order her new friends seemed to be part of.

“So you don’t believe in any gods?”

“No.” She turned around and leaned against the bathroom door.

“How are you so sure the gods don’t exist?” Syrio challenged her.

“Well I think religion is invented by men, to keep people in check. Long ago when there were no written laws I’m sure the doctrines of religions where needed to keep some kind of order. But I am actually surprised so many people still believe and live by these same rules. Everything around us gets updated with time, hardly anyone uses a house phone anymore instead everyone wants the newest technology. But when it comes to religion, people go with doctrines that have not been modernized for hundreds of years.”

Arya walked to the two chairs and a small table in the corner of the room and took a seat in the chair facing Syrio.

“I don’t have a need for religion. I am not afraid to die and I do not feel incomplete or futile without it. Many devout people fear death more than I do and they are promised heaven, as where I think there is….nothing after death. Besides it’s hard for me to believe in things that can’t be proven.”

“So you don’t believe in things that you can’t see hm?”

“Well, not exactly. I mean there are many things we can’t see that do exist, but I don’t think there is a god if that’s what you mean.”

She was silent for a while and studied Syrio’s face to get an indication of what he thought about her statement. He just regarded her with a strange smile playing around his lips. Arya decided to take matters in her own hands to find out what the Cypriote knew about the secretive order.

“Are _you_ a religious man? Are you with the sect your brothers and sister are part of?”

Syrio put the book down and leaned down onto one elbow. His curious brown eyes now formed slits as he scrutinized her.

“What do you think you know about this... sect?”

Arya sat up straighter, his words and demeanor had made her aware of the ice getting thinner under her feet.

“Well, not much, but I would like to learn more about it.”

She had to be careful not to betray what she had seen on the video.

“There is a man very close to you who could tell you all about this thing. You know this yes?”

Arya let her eyes wander from her interlocutor’s face to the bed and then to the dark carpet. “Yeah. I know but…” _I can’t face him right now._ “I don’t think he would tell me about it.”

“Have you tried?”

“Well, no but.” she stammered. _He’s a damned terrorist assassin part of some kind of religious cult, why the hell would he let me in on anything?_

“Then you don’t know... Arya.” He made the R roll in his strangely mixed accent.

The use of her name, which she had not told him, gave her a strange feeling in her gut. Jaqen or one of the others had told him her name, that was not what made her feel this way. Was he suggesting she’d ask Jaqen directly about the order?

“I did ask, he said they worship no one.”

The dark eyed man smirked and nodded the hearty sparkle returned in his eyes. “Just so.”

He got up from the bed in one fluent movement. “Have you packed your things girl? The night is young, if you want to explore the city, now is the time to do it.” his manner immediately lightened the mood.

“Yeah, let’s do it.” Arya said with a surge of newfound purpose. While the warm water was washing away her sorrow she had made a resolution that she would have fun tonight. It was offered, why not take the opportunity she figured.

She had put on her new outfit again and felt like a million bucks. Though normally she didn’t care for the attention today she wanted to turn heads on the streets and feel alive.

It was incomprehensible to her how the latest member of the cell who she had met only today made her feel so comfortable and how he emboldened her. It was as if they knew each other from before and he even brought out a side of her that she never allowed too much time in the foreground.

Arya took one last look around the room to see if she packed everything and then allowed Syrio to carry her suitcase to the elevators. Perhaps she was less emancipated than she had always viewed herself. The courteousness suited her chaperone. It was like he was around to serve Arya’s every need. She remembered Jaqen’s words;

_“If a girl has need of anything else she needs only to tell this brother and he will see to it.”_

Syrio gave her every indication he would live up to this promise and she was in the mood to test the limits.

“Where is it you would like to go girl?”

A mischievous smile played on her lips. “A restaurant? Can we do that?”

“Certainly” her affable companion replied pressing the elevator button to the lobby. “I know just the place. Do you like seafood?”

“I do.” Arya loved seafood.

Syrio gave one of the deferential nods she had gotten used to from the people she shared lodging with and she knew he would take her there.

 

The pair stepped into the lobby and was immediately noticed by the clerk who now appeared to be assisted by a colleague.

“Go ahead, I will wait for you at the door.” Syrio said tagging along her suitcase.

She smiled her compliance and walked up to the two employees waiting for her to approach with a skittishness that they were unable to hide fully.

“I am ready to check out.” she said with a reassuring look on her face.

“Certainly miss, we hope all has been according to wish.” the clerk seemed relieved Syrio didn’t accompany Arya to the counter.

“I haven’t been able to spend much time in the hotel but everything was very well taken care of, thank you.” she replied politely. She didn’t want to make the men more nervous with meaningful looks so she acted as casual as possible.

The man presented her the bill discretely in a black case like was usual, perfect to slip a note into unseen. He explained again the extra cost of the new key card and Arya mentioned all was in order while she slipped the folded note in with the money. She politely nodded and wished the two employees a good rest of the evening as she turned to Syrio who was waiting with her suitcase a couple of steps away.   

“Good evening gentlemen.” He politely said as held the door open for Arya and followed her with her suitcase like a true porter. It had become fully dark outside and orange street lanterns lit the Mexican streets.

 

When he put her suitcase in the trunk and walked around to open her door, which she had already opened herself, she realized how strange it felt to be waited on like that by a potentially dangerous man. His subservient manner came in such a good-natured way that it didn’t feel awkward but made her somehow feel powerful and wayward. Different from when she had been undercover with a high-placed cartel king-pin. Champagne and expensive hotel rooms then were the norm, though again not always as bombastic as in the movies, but drugs and money were readily available on plenty and people looked up to or feared the druglord. This was a different kind of power, less pompous and much darker. Probably equally lethal but also rebellious, a side of her that felt a strong need to come out.

She was about to drive off into the Mexican capital night with a man she knew too little about to trust as much as she did. She tried to extenuate the feeling by convincing herself it was necessary field work but she knew she was too thrilled by the danger of the situation to be true. Dressed to impress and ready to push the borders of what could be considered ‘related to her mission’ she let Syrio close first her and then his own car door and start the engine. A surge of impulsiveness buzzed through her veins.

“Let’s go.” she said with an iniquitous smirk.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -
> 
> Ready for trouble? 
> 
> Please tell me how you liked reading with the music if you have tried. I hope you are also still enjoying the story which has turned from an experiment into a project :) I have to honestly admit that I have watched Suicide Squad lately and by the end of this chapter Arya feels a bit like Harley Quinn but I think she is entitled to some fun after all she has been through so far :)  
> Comments and remarks are very welcome! Thanks for sticking around and I have written some parts of future chapters so I might update sooner if my characters let me :P


	14. A Sign of Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG guys sorry for letting you wait for this so long but I went to freaking Bali without any real planning whatsoever so I am enjoying the shit out of the place. This chapter is a bit of plot development but I still hope the real J/A fans will stick with me because the next one will probably be candy for you!

“You are too involved.” Randall Luwin admonished his junior. 

Though he knew it was true Gendry gave the man confound look. 

“You are letting this mission get too close to you, it gets in the way of your professionality.” he elaborated. 

“Without Arya it isn’t much of a mission anymore now is it?” he mumbled under his breath.

“What was that, agent Waters?” Randall Luwin gave him one last chance before he decided to lose his patience.

“Nothing.” Gendry muttered not feeling like pushing his luck on the matter.

The young agent looked as if he hadn’t slept for days and was surviving solely on coffee. Dark rings had formed under his light blue eyes making him look like a zombie. His hair which was already unruly now looked even less unkempt and his mood had matched his appearance and even turned explosive at times. 

The team had been looking for Arya for days and Gendry’s patience was wearing thin. His colleagues patience  _ with him _ even so. Though the whole team was stressed out about losing their most important connection on their first mission, the other two men were dealing with it professionally while Gendry seemed to get more desperate every day. 

He also failed to understand how the rest of the team could not be more distressed about the whole situation, after all the mission was down for as long as they were missing their main target and the agent responsible for locating him.

Of course, when he took a moment to reflect, he realized his mentor was right. He knew he was letting the situation get the best of him but he couldn’t help it and so he chose not to do too much reflecting. The thought of Arya being in danger made his blood boil. He was the protective type but in other missions this character trait had not affected his work. He tried to convince himself that it was because Arya was young and needed his protection but he knew that was a lie. He tried to make himself believe the people she was dealing with, if it was indeed them who took her, were extremely dangerous and that they could easily dispose of her but there was no evidence that this was the case either. 

No matter how hard he tried to deny it, deep down Gendry knew where his overprotectiveness came from and if he knew it must not have passed by his superiors. Arya had not given him any indication that she felt the same way but he could not disregard the way his day became just that fraction better when she would walk into the office. It had become a habit for him to bring her coffee and he loved the thankful look she always gave him when he handed her the cup. Like he just saved her life. They had gone out a couple of times, most of the times as a group but he had managed to convince her to go out with him once or twice and she hadn’t rejected him. He knew her strict ‘coming up for a drink’ policy and hadn’t pushed her to change her mind on the matter but he secretly hoped the reason of her strict rule was professionality based.

Javier tried to lighten the mood by throwing in a joke. 

“Let’s go back to Americana Waters, maybe you can ask Ellaria about her little bike with training wheels.” he laughed. 

A muffled buzzing sound from Gendry’s pocket saved him from saying some things that might have gotten him fired. 

“Waters.”

“Yes?”

“Wha...whe….when was this?”

“Ok wait, I am on my way. I will be right there.”

When Gendry hung up the phone he appeared a different person. His tired and hungover mood had made way for a new kind of frantic energy that made him look like a madman.

“Arya checked out of the Ramada about 15 minutes ago.” Gendry said as he rushed for the door.

“Gendry! Javier is driving.” Luwin yelled sternly knowing Gendry would be a danger to himself and others if he were to race to the hotel himself.  

Gendry didn’t care, he just rushed out of the door and to the car with Javier having ro run in order to keep up with his colleague. Leaving behind Randall Luwin who just shook his head at the improfessonallity of it all.

 

\-------

 

The air was hot in the bustling capital of Mexico. It was still early in the evening but there was a buzzing throng of people astir. The humm of the traffic, the crowd and the sounds of the city blended together into hypnotizing rhythm. They were driving, windows down, along the Paseo de la Reforma. Syrio smoothly maneuvered the green Chrysler through the chaotic traffic. The warm wind brushed the side of Arya’s face and made her dark locks flutter in the gleaming light of the street lanterns.

Arya felt alive and free. The contrast with her living situation of the past couple of days could not be bigger. Yet again she wondered how she ever got herself ensnared in such a bizarre situation. She pondered on the choices in her life that had led her to the kind of job she did and the exceptional working conditions that went with it. Though if she could do it all over, she knew she would not have chosen anything differently.  _ Yeah _ ,  _ my job may be somewhat  unconventional but I love it _ , she thought as she breathed in the scents of the city.

Driving into the popular Condesa district, Syrio threw his conveyor an amused sideward glance. He noticed how his precious consignment seemed to come back alive in the light and atmosphere of the metropolis. He wore a self satisfied grin for he knew her night was about to get better as they pulled up to the white facade of a restaurant called Kaye on the corner of Alfonso Reyes and Puerto Real.  

The small restaurant had an artistic and contemporary look with its whites, blacks, wood and accents of turquoise. Wooden beams supported the low ceiling and the warm glow of clusters of filament lamps and candles on the small tables gave the place a cosy and intimate atmosphere.

They had hardly stepped inside when they were greeted by a friendly Mexican waiter who escorted the pair to a table at the back of the establishment. Due to the early hour there were very few other guests so they had a lot of privacy.  _ Perfect _ , Arya thought,  _ there is a lot I would like to know about you and your friends and how better to discover than over a decent meal and a good cocktail.  _

After the bread, flavoured butter and three different types of salsa were placed on their table the waiter took their orders. However friendly, the Mexican serving them did not happen to know a word of English but that proved not to be a problem as Syrio switched to flawless Spanish to order their food and drinks.

“Are you sure you are not Mexican?” Arya joked. 

“Last time I checked my passport I was still from Cyprus.” he countered with a smile handing her a piece of bread which he had spread with jalapeno lime butter. 

“What are you doing in Mexico?” It was time for for the young agent to start carefully investigating. 

“I’ve lived here for almost ten years, I have friends all over the city and I like it here. There is something about this city, it’s alive.”

Arya nodded. She had never visited Mexico City before but she understood what Syrio meant. 

“I feel it too.”

The friendly Spanish speaking waiter put a Margarita down in front of Arya and water for her Cypriot companion. 

“Don’t you drink alcohol? or is it because you are driving?”

“Just so. Our friend would kill me if anything happened to you but even if that wasn’t the case, I don’t drink it all the same.”

“May I ask why?” Arya asked sipping her light green margarita with pink rock salt and a hint of bright red chili flakes decorating the rim of the glass. The combinations of flavors pleasantly tingled in her mouth.

Syrio regarded her from the other side of the small table. 

“Men lose their control under the influence of it. It tends to make them slow and unfocused or rash and aggressive. It clouds the senses and makes people do things they might later regret.” he answered her question without a hint of judgement.

Arya could only acknowledge his words. She wasn’t a big drinker herself although she had been drunk in the past but for some reason she felt the need to defend herself.

“Only if you drink too much of it.” she said taking another sip.

He seemed to be expecting some kind of retort and calmly watched her imbibe the lime green  cocktail. “Yes, if you drink too much of it.”

The waiter came up with the starters Syrio had ordered for them. Arya had let him pick and order for her as he seemed to know what he was doing and she didn’t mind to be surprised. The server put down a plate with a selection of colorful tomatoes beautifully made up like a circular rainbow ranging from light green to deep red. The other plate displayed an imbricate line of beautifully garnished tuna tataki. The pink-red meat of the fish seared to perfection. 

“Oh wow, this looks amazing.” Arya said gawking at the food.

“Wait till you try it.” Syrio said with a self content smile as he served out a little bit of everything for her. 

She tried the tomatoes. The red ones tasted fresh and juicy while the green ones were not at all as tangy as she expected them to be. The orange ones were as sweet as ripe cherries, the yellow slices were fleshy and the tiny yellow ones popped in her mouth. The coriander-cheese sauce provided the herby-salty counter aroma to complement the fruity flavor of the colorful vegetables. 

“Oh my god...this is amazing!” she exclaimed surprisedly “This dish completely changed my idea about tomatoes.” 

Syrio grinned as he waited for her to try the fish. 

The meat of the tuna melted in her mouth. A hint of ginger tingled on her taste buds. She closed her eyes and shook her head. 

“Hm...wow…you know how to pick your restaurants.”

“Food is one of the pleasures in life, if you have a chance you should indulge.”   
  


The evening went on as Arya and Syrio spoke of Mexico and travelling. Syrio had been many places and knew a lot about culture, history and politics. He could tell her all about the Aztecs and their deities and rituals. She drank in his words which captivated her spoken in his interesting accent. She wasn’t sexually attracted to the older man but found him strangely charming and his knowledge impressed her. He radiated a calm that brought her tranquility. The man had a talent of making her forget all about who she was and the real reason she was sitting across from him in the high-end restaurant in the first place.

By the time they were finishing the exquisite main course of grilled octopus tentacles, tiger prawns and a terrine of fish the subject of the conversation had landed on her and Arya suddenly became more aware that she was still on mission. 

“How do you like your Mexican hotel and the staff?” Syrio asked wiping his mouth with a napkin.

She was going to say that she hadn’t spent much time at the Ramada but then realized he was talking about her other hotel. 

"The hotel desperately requires renovation and the food we just ate is significantly better but the staff is not bad.” She grinned. 

“How is it that a young woman ended up in a venue like that in the first place? Surely there are hotter hangouts in this city for you to be.”  

Arya shook her head when she went over the course of events in her mind. “I don’t even know where to start. All that has happened since I am in Mexico has gone everything but according to plan but I guess I am lucky.” she smiled a bit shyly despite herself. “I met some really nice people and they have taken me out of a situation that could have ended quite badly and taken me in without question.” 

She swallowed when she realized she only just came to think of the situation like that. They had saved her, patched her up, taken her in and fed her. They had trusted her enough to do all that. While she was crafting their downfall. She started biting her lip.  _ God Arya be professional, you’ve done this a dozen times. It’s not personal. It’s your goddamned job. _ But the grain of guilt she felt in her stomach stayed. She needed to change the subject before the feeling could grow.

“How do you know Jaqen?” She thought it a good way to change the subject and concentrate on the mission at the same time. 

Syrio took the bait. “Circumstances brought us together... like with you.”    
  
They both fell silent for a while as Arya pondered on his words. The way he scrutinized her from under his thick dark brow made her feel like he could see straight into her soul. He squinted a bit when he spoke like he had come to a conclusion. 

“You are intimidated by him.” 

Arya’s eyes found the one’s who spoke. It were the sparkling brown laughing wrinkle lined eyes of the amiable driver from Cyprus that were staring back at her but for some reason she strongly felt that it would be a mistake to lie this time. She swallowed again.

“Yes.” she whispered casting her eyes down.

It almost felt like he lifted her chin back up with his gaze. 

“There is no shame in feeling disheartened but the feeling is misplaced. When we listen to our instincts carefully they will tell us who to trust. We humans have lost this intuition but it is not lost to us completely. If you find truth in your heart you find the truth in people around you.”

Syrio’s words resonated within her heavy with wisdom and truth and suddenly placed the man in a different perspective, a different  _ role _ for her. Uptill now he had given her a feeling of escaping the laden atmosphere of the mission as they lightheartedly chatted and laughed but now it felt like there was more to their little road trip than just a simple jaunt. The strange thing about it was that she totally accepted him in this mentor role. She had already surrendered her trust to him and his words did not find conflict in her mind.  

She suddenly wondered what Syrio’s role was in this whole commission. Terrorism...did he plan attacks, assassinate people, was he responsible for gaining people’s trust only to sell them out, did he steal, hack, spy, kill? Thus far he had only transported and entertained.

She decided to try her chances and simply ask. There were no people sitting close to them but she lowered her voice anyway.  

“Jaqen told me the aim of your...group is to stop people with too much power, people who have sinister intentions.” She said but seemed unsure of how to proceed.

Syrio let her struggle with the words for his own amusement before deciding to help her out.

“And now you want to know what I have to do with this?” he finished for her.

She breathed out her words in a relieved sigh. “Ah yeah…”

“I occasionally drop in when my help is required. But trust me. Tonight’s job is the most gratifying one in a long time.” 

Arya smiled. She already hadn’t expected him to flat out tell her that he spent his days planning bombings or assassinating politicians and she saw his compliment wasn’t just courtesy.

“What about you Arya? You break into people’s computers for a living?”

“Ah yeah. I am a hacker. I do ethical hacking mostly. Companies hire me to find security flaws so they can fix them.” 

Syrio raised an eyebrow. “And who decides what is ethical?”

“I guess I do, when I take the job.” 

“And now you are hacking for us. Do you think that is ethical?” A hint of a smile played around the corner of his mouth.

She realized that despite the fact he wasn’t staying there, he was very well aware of everything that went on in the hotel. 

“I am not sure yet.” she confessed honestly. 

The waiter came over and asked if they wanted anything else. When they politely declined he cleared the table and left, returning them their privacy for the conversation they were having.

“So Faye is teaching you some of her tricks, hm?”

“She is, you know her?” 

“I know she is very good at what she does but we don’t speak, she does not like me very much.” he said his eyes twinkling in the light of the candle on their table. 

“Well she clearly doesn’t like me either. I don’t take it personal though. I think she likes no one.”

Syrio’s dark eyes lingered on her face for a moment before he answered. 

“I think you might be right.”

 

\--------

 

Gendry had opened the car door before the car had fully come to a halt and almost damaged a parked car. Javier rolled his eyes.

“Jesus Waters, take it easy will you?”

But Gendry had already slammed the door shut and was crossing the road heading for the hotel’s entrance. Javier quickly parked the Range rover and followed his colleague to the other side of the road all the while cursing in Spanish. 

The clerk recognized Gendry immediately but couldn’t fully hide his shock at the state the CIA agent was in. He stepped out from behind the counter holding Arya’s note and motioned both man, Javier had also caught up, to follow him to the office. 

“Alright José, tell us please. Tell us exactly what happened, try to recount all details.” 

The man nodded nervously taking his responsibility very serious. When the two CIA agents had visited and instructed him the first time they had made clear that if Agent Arya Stark was to return to the Ramada, the bureau needed to be informed as soon as it was safe to do so. He had been warned not to use her last name and to give her the opportunity to leave a message if an opportunity presented itself to do so. This last thing only if the transaction could be done without any accompanist noticing. They had made it clear anyone chaperoning the agent could potentially be dangerous. 

The receptionist described how Arya had come in with a short, dark haired man. He explained she had told him that she hadn’t been at the hotel much because she had been staying with friends. José said he didn’t have the feeling Agent Stark was forcefully being constricted and that she didn’t seem stressed or scared but that the foreign man didn’t leave her out of his sight and also went up to her room with her where they had stayed for a good 25 minutes before coming back down to check out. He handed Gendry the note Arya had slipped in with the money. 

Gendry’s eyes flashed over the information.

 

_ Staying at an abandoned hotel with target and 3 members.  _

_ Varys (the spider) M early 50’s 5.5-5.8” HC? bald _

_ Sandor Clegane (the Hound) M late 40’s a6.5” - possible former military - HC DB - burn scars face R. _

_ Faye F 28-36 a5.0” HC LB - hacker _

_ Name village/location unknown.  _

_ Old green Chevrolet WY-26-258 Tlaxcala licence plates _

_ Syrio Forel M mid 40’s a5.25” HC B/G curly - Possibly from Cyprus _

_ Do NOT abandon mission, proceed according to plan. Will contact asap. _

_ AS _

 

“The man she was with” Gendry started, “was he in his 40’s, about 5.25”tall with curly black-grey hair?” his voice sounded urgent.  

“Yes sir.” José confirmed recognizing the description. “They arrived and left together.” 

Javier snatched the note out of Gendry’s hand. “I’ll call it in, have them run a check. You go look at the security footage.”

Gendry nodded. “José, I need to take a look at your security tapes.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's raining season here on the Island of the Gods so I do have some time to write and the environment is quite stimulating too so I might be able to treat you with a nice chapter full of J/A interaction for Christmas :D   
> Thanks for reading and please leave a comment, it would make my day!


	15. Promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I missed my deadline but I will just make this super long chapter my new years gift to you:  
> Happy new year, here's some fireworks for ya! (had to totally scale up the rating to 'E' for it ;)

 

Arya checked her watch that she had started wearing again after picking it up with her things at the Ramada. It was almost 2.00 a.m. when the green Chevrolet pulled up in front of the old hotel. When Syrio turned off the engine only the sounds of the night of the abandoned desert town surrounded them. Crickets, the wind and occasionally a dog barking in the distance.

“I had a lot of fun tonight.” Arya said realizing but not caring that it sounded and felt a bit like the end of a date.

Syrio’s eyes smiled along with his lips. He gave her one of the familiar deferential nods.

“The pleasure was all mine Arya”.

 

\--

 

Arya was sitting on the edge of her bed. Her bed in her room. The bed she had almost missed. Thinking about all she had done and learned and smiling with the afterglow of the events. She went over and organized the information in her head like she always did at night. Evaluating, weighing and systematizing the newly gathered facts and then tried to fit them into the mental puzzle she carried with her in her mind.

Syrio had been evasive of her questions but still vocal and candid enough to impart certain information to her. She sensed that he selected the intelligence carefully but she did not once catch him showing signs of lying. Rather than lying he would simply sidestep questions he did not want to answer, change the subject or ask a counter question of his own, a smart basic technique she too had learned in her training.

When he had told her he was from Cyprus she believed him. That, or at least had spend time there because in the vivid descriptions he broke eye contact when he remembered the details. It was clear to her he wasn’t prevaricating false memories.

So she knew he once lived in, or at least visited Cyprus and that he had lived in Mexico city for nine years. The latter was supported by the fact that he knew the city like the back of his hand, by car as well as on foot which became clear when they had taken a stroll after dinner. Even his looks and his flawless Spanish could easily make him pass off as Mexican.

She tried to make sense of the information she had gathered about the link between him and Jaqen. On the question if he lived with the group Syrio had answered that he didn't. When she later asked how well he and Jaqen one another he had answered her that they knew each other better than any of the other people she had met. This struck her as strange but she hadn’t questioned him about it any further.

She liked the man, she liked the way he spoke. There was a feeling of easygoing camaraderie between them which felt natural. When Arya had asked him why he didn’t stay with the rest of them he had answered her the risk of all operating from the same place was too big. This made total sense but she could not help but feel slightly disappointed that she wouldn’t have a lot of chances to converse with him though he also told her that whenever she had need of him she had only to ask and he would come. Strangely enough that gave her a safe feeling.

Maybe it was because she normally debriefed on missions but for days already she hadn’t had a chance to consult with anyone. Syrio was so accessible that he functioned as a soundboard to her at least that’s how it felt even though she knew that it shouldn’t. She felt relaxed but she constantly was aware not to lose her watchfulness around him.

A smile appeared on her face. There were a couple of small successes she had booked tonight; The Ruger was now invisibly tucked between the padding of her mattress that she had sliced open with one of her blades. The blades that had proven to be necessary nor useful except for hiding her newly re-gained weapon that she hoped would be as essential as the knives she had kept under her pillow. She collected the rest of her things and had taken a shower which felt like a victory on it self.

The first note she had slipped the desk clerk wearing a name tag dubbing him José had said she was ok and not to call the bureau until she and her chaperone had left the hotel. She didn’t want to jeopardize her mission which seemed to be going according to plan now. With the second note, the one she had managed to slip him with the bill, she had let her colleagues know she was unharmed and that they should proceed according to plan. She even managed to convey key information that would surely be of utter importance in seizing the members of the cell.

Her smile disappeared. The success she booked on one side presented a loss on the other and she started feeling more and more ambiguous about her dispatch.

Syrio’s words echoed in her mind;

_“When we listen to our instincts carefully they will tell us who to trust. If you find truth in your heart, you find the truth in people around you.”_

She admonished herself for her incompetence to just execute the task she was sent out to do without constantly ensnaring herself in internal turmoil.

 _Oh come on, how serious should I take his words anyway? He’s probably just sweet talking me. Besides, the people around me must have lost their instincts for they trust a CIA agent who wants them all apprehended. It’s their own stupid fault if they trust the wrong people_ . Jaqen of all people, who could see through anyone put confidence in her. There was only one person who openly mistrusted and misliked her. Faye had never as much as once gave her the impression she gave Arya credence. _Maybe she’s the only smart person around._ Still it made her feel ambivalent to think about the guerrilla group being captured.

Eventually she convinced herself that she should just see the evening for what it was; A night of relaxation and fun in an otherwise complicated mission which she really should be taking a bit more serious from now on. _I can’t let myself be carried away with sentiment for casualties. This bullshit has to stop. You’ve had your fun now start focussing._ She told herself sternly.

She resolved that she would focus on two things in the morning; figuring out who or what they were hacking and with that solving the mystery of the group’s objective and secondly solve what that strange video was about and what it could tell her about the ideology of the master assassin and his cult.

Arya sighed. _Jaqen is the protagonist. He is the one with all the information_ . _If I want to make progress I have to go through him._ The thought equally terrified as it excited her. She still vividly remembered their last encounter and she could not make up her mind about confronting him again. A shiver ran down her spine but again she did not know if it was fear of excitement that induced it. She had to come up with a foolproof strategy to tempt him out of his secrets or break into his computer again.

_“What do you think you know about this sect?”_

_“There is a man very close to you who could tell you all about this thing. You know this yes?”_

Would she be able to ask Jaqen about the cult without betraying the fact that she had seen more than was designated for her eyes?

It had almost seemed like Syrio had tried to coax her into talking directly with Jaqen. To go to him and ask him her questions to his face. It seemed to her like a hopeless approach for he would probably effortlessly dissimulate his true motives... _unless_...

 _It’s part of the mission_ , she tried to convince herself. _I’ve done this before, same thing really._

Sure she had had to pretend to be interested in what her targets in previous missions had wanted from her. She had giggled like a silly maid when some drug trafficker had tried to grope her. She had swayed her hips and had worn overly revealing clothes bending just a bit too deep exposing her breasts on another occasion where she had successfully won over one of the most influential and important lords of a powerful cartel. The man had made her one of his core-whores and she had had to have sex with him but every time he touched her she had to suppress the urge to shun his touch, kick him in the groin or slit his throat. When he took her and when she pretended never to get enough of it, she numbed her mind and thought of how he would soon perish behind bars giving her the determination to go on.  

With Jaqen it was different. Yes, he was her target, yes, he was dangerous, yes, she knew he was playing with her and yet, she craved for it somehow. He frightened her as much as he enticed and captivated her. One moment he terrified her, pinning her down with his ice-cold emotionless gaze, making her feel like a layer of ice encapsulated her insides chilling her to her very core. While in the next instant something inside him would shift and fire seemed to blaze in his almond shaped eyes melting the frost in her chest and setting her desires ablaze, burning so hot it almost threatened to scorch her from the inside out. The harder she tried to convince herself she needed to ‘get close to him for the mission’, the more she realized the mission might not have anything to do with it.

 

She blew out a long breath and bit her lip.

 

\-----

 

Arya found herself in a godforsaken town in the middle of the Mexican desert. She was standing barefoot on a sand dune looking out over a city. The city in the valley lay in ruins. Grey and black smoke swirled up into the sky from the rubble. In the distance she heard people screaming and children crying for their mothers.

A familiar voice behind her spoke.

“When we listen to our instincts carefully they will tell us who to trust.”

Syrio was wearing a cowled robe tied together with a belt. The hood was pulled over his head obscuring part of his face. He was standing in the door opening of a partially collapsed house looking at her. When she looked down she saw she was wearing her black shift.

She looked back up at the friendly sparkling brown eyes of her Cypriot friend. He returned the gaze but there was a sadness in his stare. He inclined his head slightly as if he was bidding her farewell. Then moved his hand to his forehead and whispered what seemed like a prayer as he turned to look out over the city. When he turned back to face her it were Jaqen’s catlike blue eyes that regarded her. Jaqen’s eyes, Jaqen’s face, Jaqen’s posture but when he lowered the cowl she saw this man had remarkable long red hair with a white streak. A strong smell of sandalwood and spices surrounded her. The man spoke with Jaqen’s voice.

“If a girl finds truth in her heart she find the truth in the people around her.”

His kiss was deep and hungry and swallowed her whole. Then their hands and lips were all over each other’s nakedness, tongues fighting for supremacy, he built her up then broke her down and repeated the ritual, he devoured her soul and made her a slave to her own insatiable desire. She grabbed a fistful of his red and white strands as his head moved between her legs. Her eyes fluttered close as she neared the peak, her fingers now trying to find grip in the yellow sand. Drunk on passion she lifted her head to look at his perfect work but then gasped and crawled backwards when she looked down at the short dark hair of the man between her thighs. His head shot up and his eyes met hers. A different hue of light blue that stared at her from under his dark eyebrows, she recognized his face.   

 

Arya shot up in her bed panting. “Fuck….” She shook her head and stared into the dark trying to remember as much of her dream as possible before it dissolved into the darkness of oblivion. She turned up the wick of the lantern on her bedside table washing the room with light and checked her watch. It was 03.30, only 10 minutes after she had last checked the time. She raked the fingers of both her hands through her hair exhaling loudly. “What the fuck was that?” A couple of deep deliberate breaths slowly brought her back to reality. “Fuck.”

 

She got up still wearing the same clothes she had worn on her night out. _I’ve got to take a piss. I will put on something else when I come back_ , she thought irritated with herself when she noticed the wetness between her legs. She struggled to put on the worn out sneakers, grabbed the smallest blade from under her pillow and tucked it into the back pocket of her shorts. She didn’t think she’d need it, it was a matter of habit.

 

The lantern flickered when she picked it up and silently walked through the corridor. Shadows creeped around her on the walls as she crossed the main hall to the old wing to go to the bathroom but halted midway when she saw light spilling from under the door of Jaqen’s work room. Her heart started pounding in her chest as she turned the light of her lamp down low. She was burning with desire to find some clues to get her investigation moving. Silently she shuffled towards the door rehearsing what she would say were he to step out and find her lurking in the shadows.

She heard muffled voices from the room as she came closer. One of the voices was Jaqen’s, the low tones of his lilting words vibrated through the timber. The other voice belonged to Arya’s least favourite member of the household. Her cantankerous sister’s voice sounded like the two were having a one-sided fight because Jaqen’s tone was calm and collected. _Why the hell are they arguing in the middle of the night?_ She had to strain herself to make out words but after a couple of seconds it dawned on her that the two were speaking German. Arya didn’t see a point in trying to strain herself to catch words she would not be able to understand anyway and run the risk to be caught in the process so she passed the door and quickly slipped into the bathroom. When she came back Jaqen and his sister still seemed to be entangled in their German exchange.

She froze in place for a second contemplating a dangerous idea that flashed through her mind. _If he is here, he can not also be there….what if I….what if I just quickly take a peak in his bedroom..._ She chewed her lip. As if the devil himself had pushed her to the decision she tiptoed back through the main hall and down the stairs avoiding the steps which creaked. She knew the only one sleeping in the old wing downstairs was Jaqen but she still checked if no one was skulking about in the middle of the night. _Oh shit, maybe his door is locked._ She considered a bit late but when she reached his room and pushed against the door it swung open with a soft squeak.

 

She blew out a silent breath and stepped into the candle lit room. _He didn’t snuff the candles, he probably didn’t plan on staying away very long, meaning I don’t have much time._ There was so little furniture in the room that there wasn’t much to see but a low wooden altar in the corner attracted her attention. She listened for any sounds and then bent down to the small makeshift shrine which she was almost sure had not been there the last time she visited in the assassin’s sleeping quarters. _I was a bit distracted the last time though..._ she called upon the image of Jaqen’s shapely abbs and the thin line of hair running down to where his low cut sweatpant covered the parts of him that distracted her now. _For fuck sake concentrate a bit will you…_

Next to the altar were the thick glass bottles and the mortar and pestle she had noticed before and the altar itself displayed a couple of small vials with liquid. There was a bundle of what looked like kindling wood and a thick, old looking coin. She picked it up and turned it between her fingers. It had a face on one side and a dagger on the other with the words ‘Valar Morghulis’ engraved on a ribbon. There was nothing else on the slate but Arya moved her hands over the surface and when her fingers touched the rough surface of the underside she felt there was a small drawer situated at the bottom. She slid it open finding a pouch inside. When she picked it up with the intention of opening it, a square piece of paper fell out of the pouch fluttering down to the floor.    

She picked it up and inspected the yellowed picture of a young woman and a child. The girl looking no older than about 18 had wavy dark brown hair. She was standing in front of a sandstone house that reminded her of pictures from Afghanistan, the red and black dress the girl was wearing looked like traditional eastern attire, Bedouin perhaps. She was holding the hand of a toddler, a girl, and looked straight into the camera smiling. Her other hand rested on her belly. Arya turned towards the light and brought the picture closer to her face to see better and squinted confusedly when she saw the resemblance, the girl in the picture looked a lot like she could be her Middle Eastern counterpart. Frowning Arya moved her finger over the picture trying to make sense of what it could mean. She did not have a lot of time to linger on the strange discovery, Jaqen could come back any time, so she placed the picture back into the drawer and picked up the pouch.

Inside were some dried plants, herbs maybe, a metal stick, a small roll of diaphanous light brown paper and a small rectangular paper wrap of about an inch long and a quarter inch thick. She gently squeezed it, it felt soft to the touch like some kind of clay. She unwrapped it and looked at the small rectangular brown stick wrapped in clingfilm. She smelled it and knew exactly what it was but she was still surprised to find it in the assassin’s altar. She carefully re-wrapped the piece of hash and neatly tucked it back in the pouch with the other contents. She put everything back exactly how she had found it, closed the drawer and picked up a small glass vial when suddenly she felt a presence in the room. She made to swirl around but was too late. Arya dropped the vial to have both hands free to defend herself, the small glass bottle scattered on the floor spilling the clear liquid.

 

Before she could spin around he had grabbed her from behind pushing his body firmly against the back of her, clutching her arms and twisting both of them behind her back. He moved both of her slender wrists into one hand clamping them down into a vice like grip with his left while snaking the other around the top of her shoulders, his strong forearm across her chest, pulling her body against him. In his right hand he was holding the knife he had already retrieved from her. She felt the sharp edge of her own blade against the skin of her neck. Having his bare arm on the flesh above her breasts he could feel her heartbeat quicken so fast that it felt like a bird was frantically trying to escape her chest.

Arya faintly registered the smell of spices and his hair when he bent his head down to  whisper in her ear;

“Thin ice”.

As if his words directly found their way into her soul she shivered from crown to toe making the hair on her body stand up.

“Shameless, aphrodisiacal temptress, skulking about in a man’s bedroom committing sacrilege. What is it this time a girl claims to have forgotten in her master’s chambers.” his ill-omened words turned from a whisper into a dangerous low growl.

She skilfully tried to twist out of his grip but he had anticipated the action and twisted her arms a bit further. Arya bit her lip and sucked in air between her teeth.

“A girl has many talents.” he proceeded menacingly tracing the neckline of her shirt with the tip of the blade. “Hacking, weapons, self-defence skills and a lot of knowledge about reading people’s faces and mastering her own. A man wonders where it is that a girl has come by all these very _specific_ skills.”

Arya didn’t know what was causing her heart to race more; the fact that he physically restrained and hurt her terrorizing her with the shiv, that he had summed up some skills and knowledge an _untrained_ _ordinary_ young woman was very unlikely to possess or the feeling that everything the assassin did to her and all the words he purred into her ear were turning her on like crazy despite the two previous facts and the wickedly sharp blade that he now utilized to lazily stroke her neck. She was painfully aware that she was supposed to be in a state of extreme sophrosyne but she could not help the strong feeling of licentiousness from clouding her judgement.  

The contact with his hyperphysically hot skin set her own ablaze and the danger she felt slinking up her ankles to take control of her heart drove her into a near frenzy.

He moved his hand to the side of her neck and caressed the skin with is thumb. _This is wrong_ , she thought when she felt blood rush down between her thighs. _He is totally in control._ _I have to do something to turn his game around and seduce him instead, it’s the only way to regain at least some bit of control._ All the teasing and tension that had built up between the assassin and his lovely girl had become too strong. She closed her eyes and involuntarily pushed herself into him ever so slightly to feel more of his body against hers.

He did not shun her. “A man has noticed the unusual skill a girl possesses to manipulate and deflect manipulation. He is impressed.” he said. For a moment Arya wasn’t sure if she should bask in pride or curse herself for the fact that he called her out on it. It turned out to be the latter.

“But the fact that I _have_ noticed means a girl is not experienced enough.”

Arya stopped her efforts to escape Jaqen’s constraint and froze under his grip realizing he had noticed more than he should have. How much did he really know about who and what she was? Did he recognize his old mentor’s tutoring? She suddenly feared for the damage the trained assassin could inflict on an agent in her position. If he realized who she worked for she was in the worst state she could possibly be in. When she swallowed, the feeling was emphasized by the edge of the knife pressing against her skin. She tried to shake herself out of the sensual inebriety and focus her more sober mind to save her soul. However his next words came so unforeseen that she had to employ an entirely different approach.

“A man can teach a girl to hone her skills.” He huskily breathed against the shell of her ear and ran the tips of his fingers from her shoulder to the tender flesh of her neck still holding the knife pointed away from her face.

He heard her breathing in sharply and he could almost hear the storm of thoughts raging in her head.

_Hone my what skills? Oh my god, I am so fucked, I can’t think clear. Jesus what is this man doing to me? Is he offering to teach me to rule my face better, my emotions? To become like him?_

Arya wanted to learn that more than anything else but was afraid at what price this tutoring would come.

“However, for a girl’s impertinence a debt is owed.” he growled in her ear sending shivers down her spine.

She swallowed and tried to keep control of her voice making it sound like she was not beyond saving from his predatory instincts.

“What do you mean?”

_Stubborn girl, let me tell you and see if you can keep up your little act. I accept your challenge but I am better at this game._

“A girl would do wise to seize feigning innocence and accept a man’s claim of her shamelessness.”

He was right, of course. What the hell was she doing in his room in the middle of the night, going through his stuff, what did it look like? She had been playing a dangerous game with him as a prelude to what she had unleashed with her behaviour, and now he would make her pay for her irrational lascivious conduct.

He tucked the blade under his belt and planted her underarms against the rough stone wall with his own huge hands. She felt the contrast of the cold of the wall against her arms in front of her and the heat of his body against her rear. He kicked against the insides of her feet forcing her legs apart as if he was going to search her for possible weapons she was carrying on her. His voice turned into a low and dangerous growl that it thrummed the deepest snares of her core when he leaned in and spoke to her;

“For her immorality a man will punish a girl, drive a her mad with desire until she begs for release. He will claim her body and make her willingly surrender her soul.”

Arya squeezed her eyes shut. His words made the fire in her core burn so hot that it melted her insides and hot fluid started trickling down into her already wet lace underwear. Jaqen let go of her right wrist in order to slide his hand up the side of her hip. His calloused palm caressing her white skin as he slipped his fingers under the hem of her shirt. Pressing his groin against the soft flesh of her ass. She gasped when she felt she was not the only one who was not in total control of her body.

“Is this what a girl came to find?” he hissed against the sensitive skin of her neck.

She desperately shook her head.

“No?” He slowly moved his hand from her hip across her flank, towards her chest.

Arya nearly fainted at his touch and despairingly tried to regulate her breathing in the hopes he would not feel the erratic way her chest moved as she was gasping for air. In her mind she found herself secretly begging him to move fur†her up and set fire to the cool skin of her delicate breasts.

“A girl lies.” he calmly stated. It was as if his fingers left a trail of ashes where he dragged them lazily up her ribs scorching her pale skin with the unearthly heat he radiated. “A man does not need to see your face to tell this is a lie, a girl is not in the position for deception.”

He was right, he did not even have to look at her face. Her body was screaming for his touch and she knew that no matter how hard she tried to apply all the techniques she had learned, she did not stand a chance hiding her want for him.

“A man will give a girl a second chance. There will not be a third.”

He let go of her other wrist to stroke her hair away from her nape and placed his hot lips on the curve between her shoulder and her neck. Arya bit her lip so hard that she almost drew blood. She started to breathe more heavily through her nose when excruciatingly slowly he moved up his mouth up to the hyper sensitive spot behind her ear leaving a wet trail with his tongue. With the hand that still lingered under her shirt he started to trace the lower curve of her breast with his index finger.

“Is this what a girl desires?” he asked her breathily, his mouth still lingering behind her ear.

She swallowed feeling woozy and it cost her all the concentration she could muster to shake her head again almost imperceptibly. She didn’t even believe it herself.

He smirked maliciously and studiously brought his palm down to her flat belly resting his hand on the waistband of her shorts where he started drawing lazy circles around her navel with his thumb.

Was this not exactly what she desired?

 

The seconds she had to try and find an answer to the question proved not enough to come to a sane conclusion. Jaqen slid his calloused fingers down under the waistband of the shorts and into the underwear he had picked for her.

 _Yes, yes, yes,_ moaned her soul, _no, no, no_ screamed her professional conscience.

Arya squeezed her eyes shut as if the action would prevent what would happen next. As if by closing her eyes she didn’t have to hear the words she knew he was going to speak.

She felt him smile against her neck and then bring his lips back to the shell of her ear.

“A lie.” His guttural growl cut through her like a serrated knife.

He brought his palm in front of her face showing her the glistening web of her lust between his fingers presenting her the proof of his claim.                 

Oh how cool and unmoved, maybe even arrogant he conducted himself. She would not see how much self-control it took him to restrain himself. He was dying to quench his thirst on her. Yes, he was better at this game but every time they had played had left a little incentive and it was driving him mad. Under his quiet guise raged a tempest of desire, plundering his mind.  

Arya felt her cheeks glow looking at her own slickness covering the assassin’s fingers.

Before she knew what had happened he had spun her around and pressed her back against the cold stone wall. With the hand he had used to glean his proof he firmly grabbed her jaw resting his wet index finger on her lips.

Arya now heaved heavily as he tilted her head up and forced her to look him in the eye where he found all the desire she had already been unable to conceal. It felt as if she were falling, plummeting into the burning depths of his gaze.

With the slightest squint of his eyes he asked her the question again.

She regarded him through half closed lids heavy with need. Realizing there was no way back from this, not in reality nor in the realm of her desire, she invited him by moving the tip of her tongue past her slightly opened lips to touch his finger.

It was all the incentive he needed.

He moved his hand from her jaw to the nape of her neck and weaved his fingers into her hair grabbing a handful of her chestnut curls. He brought her face to his and finally their lips met.  He devoured her in a hungry kiss. He kissed her like a madman, a nomad deprived from water and she was his fountain, his oasis in the burning desert.

When he finally released her mouth from his so she could gasp for air he pushed her back against the wall like he had before their kiss.

Without the possibility of moving her head she tried to escape his burning gaze but his face was so close to hers she could not avert her eyes. His hot breath ghosted over her face as he stood over her amassing oxygen for his next attack on her lips.

She made one last attempt to unbalance him. With the little leeway he allowed her she rubbed her hip against his groin feeling him hard against her.

“What about a man,” she boldly whispered against his finger. “does he not have to control his body?”

He gave her a lazy half smile. “A man has never claimed not to desire. He would not claim such a foolish thing when he can’t stand by it.”  

Her lips formed a single letter against the digit. “O…” _He never has._

He took the knife in his left hand and hooked it in the low neckline of her top. Arya’s eyes grew big with suspense and she didn’t dare to move. He kept her anxious gaze as he moved the sharp blade down from neckline to hem cutting through the fabric. With the tip of the blade he pushed the ruined garment off her shoulders like a useless rag. Arya looked down indignantly.  

Jaqen chuckled. “A man will buy a girl a new top.” he said thinking she was upset because he had ruined her clothes. It turned out not the be the reason of her unrest.

“Are you left handed?” her voice displayed dyspnea, shock as well as irritation.

“Yes?” he replied with an arrogant smirk feigning confusion at her agitation.

He transferred the shiv to his right hand and brought it to the center of her chest. Arya’s eyes shot up at him aghast. Without looking at the knife he flicked it up cutting clean through the front of her new bra. Under her now partially sliced tank top the girdle sprang open like a snapped elastic band releasing her breasts. He turned the knife and slashed through the black tank which fell open exposing her pale bosom in the flickering candle light.

_Oh my god, he’s fucking ambidextrous. Of course he is, how convenient._

He pointed the tip of the blade at her shorts.

“Take them off.” His countenance betrayed this was not a question. He needed to see her, all of her.

Arya hesitated.

“Take them off or lose them too.” He was not joking. If she didn’t obey him within seconds he would reduce her shorts to ribbons.

She decided to keep the shorts and her skin, the hot pants were tight and even though Jaqen had proven his proficiency with knives she’d rather not take the risk, so she unbuttoned the shorts and let them drop to her feet. Jaqen observed her like he was watching the Starry Night the way an art collector specialized solely in Van Gogh, fully understanding the brilliance of the artist’s genius would. Admiring all her curves, shades and structures with his hungry eyes. He let them wander ever so slowly to the blue (soaked) lace panties.

 _They look even better on her perfect body than I’d imagined._ He now rued the fact he had destroyed the top part for he would have liked to see her wear the set, the blue/turquoise  complemented her creamy skin perfectly. _Pale winter goddess_.

“Get onto the table, lovely girl. A man has promises to keep.”

She almost squealed with anticipation and wasn’t sure if she obeyed him out of utter fear or shameless desire but she did as he told her to do. The burn of his stare on her back as she sashayed across the room felt like it would leave burn scars where his eyes had raked her body. She was deliberately swaying her hips slightly more than she normally would and he had noticed. Of course he had.

_Bad girl..._

“Sit.” he commanded her still standing where she had walked away from him, teasingly twirling the shimmering dagger in his left hand. _Damn he’s hot._ She hoisted her half-naked body onto the metal desk, legs dangling over the edge supporting her weight on her arms that she had placed behind her. She kicked off her shoes. Jaqen stayed where he was long enough for her to flash impatience and insecurity through the brazen attitude she was flaunting.

Finally he started moving towards her like a stalking predator radiating lust and danger with every deliberate step. Arya the hunted, freezing almost imperceptibly for a fraction of a second like a deer that senses danger approaching.

He the streamlined panther. Stealthy, strong, muscles shifting gracefully under his golden skin dappled by the candlelight.

She the gazelle finesse and curvilinear grace, hypersensitive to his every move, exhibiting her majestic elegance but ready to flee as soon as she identified the source and the level of danger.

It astounded her how he kept bending the power balance back to him every time she thought she had won a bit of ground on the field of his powerplay.

Arya followed him with watchful eyes as the German assassin moved closer and closer until he was upon her. Another shot at impudence. She brazenly let her eyes glide over his full form and mimicked his accent and speech pattern in a lustful voice as she spoke.

“Why is it that a girl is half naked and a man fully clothed still?” the remark was meant the seduce him to undress.

Jaqen put his forefinger under her chin and admonished her with his eyes. He then dropped his finger to the hollow of her throat and leisurely dragged it down between her naked breasts all the way to the waistband of her panties. Her nipples hardened at the touch.

“Because a man has a knife.” He said bringing the blade to the side of her right hip and slid it under the band. “And a girl does not.” - _snap_ \- now the whole set was sent to the afterlife. His eyes found hers.

“Is a girl ready?”

Arya was burning up inside. Ready for what? For the retribution he had in store for her? She couldn’t wait for it a second longer but at the same time she wanted to jump off the slab, run and hide somewhere from his impending punishment. Something reassuring in his eyes convinced her to give in to her desire and instead of the whisper she thought she had formed to pronounce an unequivocal lusty “Yes.” left her lips.

That maddening half-smile and _What was that emotion he leaked? Pride? But not self pride...is he proud…...of me?_ He moved his hand back up to her chest bone and softly pushed her down until she was flat on her back with her legs propped up on the table. _Please let this not be my fatal mistake._ But his lips on hers ended the budding feeling of unrest before it could take root. She closed her eyes and gave in to his touch.

She was in the dark. Jaqen’s lips firmly pressed down on hers, his scent engulfing her heightened senses and then she felt his fingers on the inside of her thigh. It was only the faintest of contacts but it was enough to enkindle the smouldering inferno in her groin. She inhaled sharply breaking their kiss and Jaqen felt her body react to the touch.

With torturous indolence he circled closer to her core driving her dangerously close to madness until he finally touched her there. Arya felt like she would explode and scatter down like dust covering the cold stone floor. She made to sit up but he pushed her down again with his free hand. Then he wielded that same hand to caress and stroke her breasts with such adeptness that when she closed her eyes again it felt like two people were touching her. Jaqen’s ambidexterity was a blessing she now started to thoroughly appreciate.

His strong hand kept stroking her between her legs, faster now and Arya felt all control slipping from her like grains of sand cascading down from between her fingers. His strapping and amazingly skilled index and middle finger found her entrance and he carefully pushed inside.

 _By all the gods, she is snug._ He clenched his jaw and he felt himself twitch at the thought of being inside her.

Arya clamped a hand in front of her own mouth to prevent herself from waking up the whole damned house with her moans. Her eyes fluttered open and closed like she was staring into the burning sun through swaying branches. Her whole body felt like molten wax. She was taking shallow feverish breaths through her mouth now and the muscles in her lower abdomen slowly started to tense up. _Oh my god he is good._ She threw her head back arching her spine to give him deeper access.

From her parted lips came whimpering sounds as she lay there sprawled out under him with her eyes squeezed shut.

“Yes….please...ah…yes…..oh my god...oh my god...oh my god.” she whispered in between ragged gasps for oxigen.

He ceased his ministrations so abruptly that Arya’s eyes flew open.

“What?” she panted lifting her head. “What’s wrong?”

“Do a man’s ministrations persuade a lovely girl to become a devout disciple?” he said with a mischievous smile.

Arya stared at her suitor with a thoroughly disconcerted look on her face.

“Jesus!” she uttered irritably trying to catch her breath.

“Ah, and here a man was thinking a girl did not care for the gods.” he goaded her a bit more, seemingly amused with her bewildered state. He leaned forward bringing his mouth only inches from hers.

“Tell me what you want, lovely girl.” he breathed the words against her lips.

Her eyes searched his face for a clue of what he could possibly want from her. _What the fuck is this game now?_ she mentally whimpered. _Oh fuck, why do you torment me so?_ She drew her eyebrows together and bit her lip so that her face matched her mental state. Her sex twitched with the lack of stimulation.

“Please, Jaqen…”

Her pleading look almost made him lose control and he had to invoke all his mastery of discipline and self-control in order not to roughly bury himself within her, take her deep and hard and spill his seed inside her. But he was no-one and no-one could not give in to selfish carnal desire. Not before he would teach her the lesson he wanted her to learn.

“Say it.” he whispered menacingly against her lips. He slowly moved his hand up and down between her legs sending electric sparks to her brain. Her body convulsed with his every touch, her gasps falling in tune with the cadence of his movements.  

Arya turned her head to the side to break eye contact. She felt incredibly self-conscious and didn’t find the courage to vocalize her desire for the relentless German subversary hovering over her. Her courage failed her but her body had a mind of its own and Jaqen felt her grinding her core against his hand desperately fighting to find her release.

He held his hand still on her sex slightly pushing down on her pubic bone so she could not writhe against him.

“A girl needs to practice restraint. She must control her face, her body and her mind at all times.”

She turned her head back to face him. His cool blue eyes displayed a paradoxical combination of earnest, lust and playfulness.

“If a girl would learn these things she must submit to a man’s teachings. He will become her master and she…”

 _His slave._ She knew she and her mission were doomed when the words entered her head. She would submit to him, surrender everything, do all he asked of her. How had it ever come to this?

“...will become his apprentice.”

_Anything, anything you say, just please finish this._

“Does a girl accept?”

He could have asked her if she agreed to him killing her slowly and dumping her body in the Mexican desert.

“Yes.” She wanted to scream it.

He had made idle promises nor threats. Everything he had promised her had come true. Here she was clay in his hands, begging for her release, willingly surrendering her body and soul to the man who had just become her master.

“Good…..” Her body had already given him consent but he grew harder now that he stole the words from her lips. He flicked his slick fingers over the most sensitive spot on her body. “Now tell me what you want.”

She realized she had surrendered her will to him and with it she gave up her inhibition replacing it with neophyte boldness.

“Fuck me.”

His seemingly impassive gaze faltered at the sound of her whispered words. His lips parted as he sucked in air past his clenched teeth.

With his right hand still roving between her legs, he moved his left hand to his waist to untie the belt that held his roughspun robe together. With stunning dexterity he untied the leather girdle dropping it to the stone floor. Without the tether the garb fell open revealing Jaqen’s bare chest. From her reclined position Arya could see down to his rippling abdomen but no further, leaving the lower part of the assassin’s body concealed from her wandering gaze.

Jaqen stepped in between her legs and dropped both his arms to the side of his body. The heavy robe slid off his shoulders into a pile around his feet.

Arya breathlessly looked up at his toned chest, her eyes gliding over his clavicles, admiring the shape of his straight broad shoulders, letting them wander past his jaw to his full lower lip. When she moved her gaze up to his eyes her heart froze for a split second at the bestial hunger in his glare.

He placed one hand on her knee using the other to move himself in front of her twitching entrance never releasing her with his carnal stare. She saw his chest rising and falling with his steady but heaving breath. She sucked her lower lip between her teeth steadying herself with her hands around the edges of the table. Jaqen let his hand slide from her knee to her thigh across her flat belly and her breast, slinking his fingers into the chestnut locks at the back of her head moving his upper body along the trail and burying his face in the crook of her neck.

When he heard her release a desperate wanton sigh he could control himself no longer and pushed his full length inside her lavishly coated walls with one deep thrust letting out a deep rumbling growl. Like a submerged freediver bursting through the surface of the water after staying under for too long Arya gasped for oxygen. Her knuckles white from grabbing onto the ledge too tightly. Jaqen slowly started thrusting his hips moving in and out of her. His mouth traveling from her neck to her nipples leaving a trail of licks and kisses on the way. His mouth latched onto her left breast squeezing the other with his hand while arching his back grinding into her.

He lifted his head to look into her eyes as he fucked her. What he saw when he stared into the swirling grey gale caused his heart to stir.

_Lovely girl what are you doing to man? You have no idea how much you are testing his conviction. If I must fall let it be because of you. You are my trial, you, sublime alabaster naiad. If only you knew…._

Her breath caught in her throat. The indecipherable look in his eyes gave her such a strong feeling of being truly seen and admired, worshipped almost. A feeling she had never ever felt so strongly in her life.

_Oh my god, Jaqen H’ghar. You are like a dark consecrated angel sent to earth to pleasure, what the hell are you doing to me? If I die let it be at your hand, demigod. You will be my downfall. If only you knew..._

He pressed his forehead against hers, both of them had their eyes closed as their movements urged them higher. They were panting against each other’s lips striving for the same oxygen. Their lips met, alternating between soft kisses and almost painful attacks. The man moved faster and deeper as he felt the plea of his lover’s body. He felt a pulling motion in his loins hinting he was close. He could feel her tighten around him. It almost sent him over the edge.  

 _Restraint_...

He pulled out completely and took a step back trying to regulate his breathing. Arya squeezed her legs together moving her hand between them to touch herself.

A thing he could not allow. He grabbed her wrists and held them over her head with one of his huge hands. His grip was unbelievable. She tried to struggle out of his left handed constraint but he effortlessly held her down. He moved next to her while she was squirming on the table. Now that he was unabashedly standing next to her she saw his full erection covered in her juices. She cast her eyes down as reticence washed over her and started whimpering again.

“Shhhhhh.” he hushed as he stroked her face with his free hand. He let go of her arms and pulled her up to a sitting position facing him.

 _He has the body of a fucking half-god…_ she thought.

_She’s damned perfection made flesh…_

Jaqen cupped his hands around her perfect ass and lifted her up with him, Arya’s legs wrapped around him instinctively, adjusting her so that he could slide inside her again and then had her against the wall. The rough stone bit into the skin of her back but she was too high on a cocktail of oxytocin and endorphins to even care. 

When he thought his legs would give in he sat down on the edge of the table without setting her down. He commanded her to keep still until the onrushing climax had abated, smacking her ass with the flat of his palm when she squirmed on his lap. This however appeared to turn her on even more.

He grabbed her hair and roughly pulled her head back. “Inanna.” he growled through clenched teeth. “Kara büyücü kadin.” He whispered against her throat. “Hold still, or I will make you.” The threat in his voice betrayed the effort it cost him not to come. She obeyed only because she never wanted their carnal game to end.

After a couple of moments he let go of her hair and leaned back on the table supporting himself on his elbows so he could feast his eyes on the places where he had marked her his. He gave her the slightest of nods indicating she was allowed to move again. She gratefully obliged as she started riding him on the table.

“By all the gods Arya, I swear you break all the fucking rules.”

She giggled but then let out a shriek when Jaqen flipped both of them over in one smooth movement. He pushed her down onto the table and started fucking her hard. He angled himself so that he kept hitting that one spot of bliss and euphoria sending electric waves from there to the top of her head. Arya started moaning.

“Shhhhh.”

She tried to stop it but he was driving her mad with his thrusts. It felt like she was in a roller coaster slowly being pulled up to its summit from where beyond she was sure she would plummet into oblivion.

“Please Jaqen, “please don’t stop.” She almost cried. “Please, please, please, please…” her voice a hoarse whisper weakening with each plea until her lips only formed words without sound.

He himself feared that it he would repress an orgasm one more time they both would be ripe to be admitted to the asylum and finally gave in. He rotated his hips, slowly increasing the speed and depth of his thrusts pushing himself and Arya closer to the void.

She felt herself being pulled up as by invisible force to the peak of the highest mountain of pleasure. Sparks of light flashed before her closed lids and it felt like sparks were being sucked up from her toes through her spine, ready to burst out the top of her skull into a all-blinding fountain of light. He thrust again. She fell…

Jaqen quickly covered her mouth with his hand to muffle her moans and cries as he felt her clenching down on him with her muscles. It tipped him over the edge as well. A low guttural growl rumbled through his chest and escaped his lips as he felt his seed spilling inside of her.

She wasn’t sure anymore where one orgasm ended and the next one begun or if it was one endless undulating climax but it seemed to last minutes. She lost all sense of time, place and even gravity seemed to have lost its role as she was floating through time and space. When the waves finally started ebb away she dared to open her eyes.

All of her senses tumbled on top and over each other in a cluster of emotion she was unable to unravel. All of the suppressed excitement, fear, insecurity, anger, lust, guilt, love, angst, want, confusion, joy, responsibility and longing that had built up in the past couple of days got released into her system all at once overwhelming her senses like an emotional tsunami. She slapped both hands in front of her face to stop the tears from falling. She didn’t want to cry but she could not control it. Her body shook with the suppressed sobs. Jaqen silently let her overcome the emotional wave, empathetically stroking her hair.

She didn’t dare to remove her hands to face him. He indulged her and instead of invading the safe place she had created for herself she felt his strong arms lift her up and carry her to the bed.  

When he had promised to punish her she thought it would be cruel and harsh but when he had vowed he would punish her until she’d beg for release this is not what she expected.

She was laying next to him, half on top of his bare chest staring at the opposite wall over the shimmering sand dune landscape of his bronze skin. Their bodies still coated with a layer of slowly cooling sweat. Her head undulated along with the steady rise and fall of his breath as he played with a strand of her damp dark chestnut hair.

She finally broke the silence with a whisper.

“Thank you.”

A rich chuckle rumbled in his chest. He looked at the shimmer of the blade between the pile of clothes on the floor.

“Why does a girl bring her weapons when she visits a man’s chambers?”

Arya saw what the assassin was looking at and knew she had to answer. She started biting her lip before she mustered the courage to reply.

“I didn’t trust you.” she answered with an undertone of guilt.

“If a man is not mistaken, it has been a _girl_ sneaking into a _man’s_ bedroom and it is a girl who has repeatedly charged a man with false claims. A man has pleaded for her trust, a girl needed only offer it to receive.”

She sighed at the impact of his words. It was true; not once had a man sneaked into her bedroom uninvited, except maybe that first time he surprised her when she was trying to gauge her whereabouts by attempting to scan the courtyard. He had not defiled her in any way when she had been unconscious,the smudges of blood had been the evidence of that and he had never told her something to make her feel he accused her of anything. He had even let her back into his room when he had already taken one of her knives and knew she had another. He had trusted her but she had not trusted him.

 _Of course you didn’t trust him. Does it say in your mission briefing to trust the assassin’s intentions? It read; get him to trust you, you idiot._ A voice in her head admonished her. But it did not succeed in convincing her. A sharp feeling of guilt started to claw at her insides working its way up to her heart.

 

None of the terrorists had ever wronged her, they had only tried to be helpful and friendly. Overall really decent people one by one, with a side note that Faye was her least favorite member of the bunch, that much was true. Of course Arya knew criminals of any kind are not like you see them in movies. They are people with pasts and lives, morals and their reasons for them. But had she been far off when she had made a mental sketch of each terrorist she had met. The feeling of guilt which had now taken the form of a monster of shame threatened to consume her. She felt shame for the prejudice she had had towards them. Yes they were still subversives of some kind, but what kind she had yet to find out. She was sent to find how she could do it and then bring them down. Like a trained dog or a robot programmed to locate and destroy. She suddenly felt utterly used and underinformed.

“A girl’s silence makes the room turn colder, lovely girl.” Jaqen’s lilting voice plucked her from her pit of guilt and shame. His words literally vibrated through her head and into her soul.

Arya swallowed keeping her head tucked under his chin so she wouldn’t have to face him. She did not know what to say to him.

“A girl is brave.” He said admiring the scent and silky feel of a strand of her hair. “but stubborn as well. She may yet learn to get better but only if she acknowledges trust when she sees the truth.”

He did not have to see her face to know that she was affected by his words. He had swept her dark curls to the side and started stroking the bare skin of her back with the tips of his fingers. Arya melted at his touch and let go of the tension between her shoulder blades. She felt herself slowly get woozy and she could not suppress the urge to flatout ask him.

“What is the truth?” she whispered against his golden flesh.

The touch of her words spoken like a sigh made the hairs on his bare arms stand up.

Jaqen knew this question would come. He knew his answer would vex her but there was no way around it.

His lips lightly touched the top of her head as he spoke and he inhaled the scent of orange blossom in her hair.

“The truth is for those who are ready, a lovely girl is not ready.” he purred against her hair.

He felt her freeze and then shift. He knew she wanted to protest, he knew she had on the other hand conceded to the truth in his words when he told her she hadn’t trusted him, she knew he was right and he knew how confusing it all was to the girl whose life was threatened to be quartered by all the feelings trying to reel her in.

Arya realized his intention was not to belittle her, his voice didn’t support that and he had never treated her that way. She acknowledged his words, she had seen the truth behind them. He could convince others and even himself that what he said was true, but it were not all the signs that corresponded with truth, if it had just been her training she would not have yielded, but it was the deep indescribable feeling, of which she could not pinpoint the source, that filled her whole being with conviction. And it was damn confusing to take it all in this state.

He felt how she tried to fight her emotions and could feel her tense up trying to come to a conclusion or at least a decision of sitting up and countering him or give up the battle. The corner of his mouth curled up when he felt her relax onto his chest again.

_Good girl, you do not have to fight all the time._

He rewarded her by resuming the ministrations of his fingers on her back sending a tingling feeling from where his fingertips touched her pale skin simultaneously to her toes and the top of her head. After a while she started to recognize patterns and heard him whisper words in an unknown language. Somewhere in the back of her mind a voice told her she should be apprehensive but a stronger feeling inside her told her she was safe in his hands.

“Tomorrow a man will show a girl, if she is truly ready, she will see.”

Now Arya slowly sat up facing the assassin whose lower body was covered with a sheet but who otherwise lounged very naked in front of her. The symmetry and angles of his handsome face were accented by the candlelight. He was half seated against the pillow leaning on one elbow. An image of Syrio lounging on her hotel bed, reading the bible flashed through her head. _What the fuck?_ Her forehead creased. Jaqen just regarded her from his reclined position. She was so confused that she didn’t even realize how she had sat up on her knees fully naked hands propped up on her knees pushing her pale body and even whiter breasts forward. Jaqen let his eyes glide over her ivory candlelit curves. Her flat stomach dipped down into the valley of desire and worship. The orange light flickered throwing dark patterns on her immaculate skin.

_Almost like a pale deity herself._

_She doesn’t know how beautiful she really is. What are you doing to me lovely girl, to make a man lose his wits like you do._

He stroked her body with his eyes and smiled when he saw the scar on her shoulder healing better than he’d expected. He leaned into her and stroked the pink skin with his thumb.

“A man would let a girl sleep on it, but he must ask her to do that in her own room.”

She felt a sharp pang of rejection. It also stung him more when he heard himself say the words but he didn’t want to influence her. She had to deal with all this information and digest it on her own without him around. When he was honest he could use some time himself to get his mind in order.

“If a girl has decided she is ready, she must come to a man tomorrow at midday.” he said cupping her face with his hand.

Arya cast her eyes down in an attempt not to show her disappointment of having to leave the master’s room. She quietly nodded her head. It made sense to create a bit of distance to think. But her heart didn’t seem to want to agree with her mind. She reluctantly got up nonetheless and started gathering her now totally useless, unwearable clothes. Jaqen just regarded her from his bed which he realized would smell of her after she had left his quarters.

 

\---

 

Back in her room which felt strangely cold in the hot Mexican climate, Arya sat on her bed in Jaqen’s grey greenish dress shirt which smelled of him and just breathed. _Did that all really happen?_ She could have sworn it had all been a dream but for the shirt, the soreness between her legs and the marks and bruises on her skin. Her bare feet touched the wooden floorboards and her calves the edge of the bed. It was no longer a storm of thoughts and feelings raging in her core. The feeling now came closest to a mildly restless sea with waves of thoughts and feelings that bobbed up and then faded back into the dark depths of her own liquid like mind.

She blew out her candle and was left alone in the dark oscillating between thoughts of guilt, loyalty and her overwhelming attraction to the man who was now her master and who made her feel things she did not know were possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh I really hope you liked the turn of events here...Thank you all for reading!  
> Your comments really stimulate me to keep writing and ideas and tips are always welcome.  
> Sorry for making promises that I then totally don't keep, forgive me for it I will not promise a deadline again. 
> 
> I wish everyone who is reading this a beautiful and creative 2018!  
> Hope to see you in the next chapter :D


	16. Like Sand Through My Fingers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, sorry guys for letting you wait for so long. 
> 
> We moved back to Holland from Turkey and I needed to get settled. Now that I am, I have picked up writing again (Yay, I feel alive!)   
> The chapter became a bit longer than I expected but it works better this way. Thanks for not giving up on me.   
> It might btw be a good idea to scan the previous chapter again before reading this one to get back into the feeling of the story.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy this chapter!

**_Staying at an abandoned hotel with target and 3 members._ **

**_Varys (the spider) M early 50’s 5.5-5.8” HC? bald_ **

**_Sandor Clegane (the Hound) M late 40’s a6.5” - possible former military - HC DB - burn scars face R._ **

**_Faye F 28-36 a5.0” HC LB - hacker_ **

**_Name village/location unknown._ **

**_Old green Chevrolet WY-26-258 Tlaxcala licence plates_ **

**_Syrio Forel M mid 40’s a5.25” HC B/G curly - Possibly from Cyprus_ **

**_Do NOT abandon mission, proceed according to plan. Will contact asap._ **

**_AS_ **

 

Gendry flipped the piece of paper with the Ramada logo over in his hands.

“We’ve ran a background on all of the suspects Arya has given us information about.”

Gendry looked at his partner waiting for him to fill him in but he didn’t.

“And?”

“We have found information about two of them; Forel and Clegane.” Another pause.

“Aaaaaaand?” Gendry stretched the word giving clear indication of his waning patience.

“Sandor Clegane used to be in the groundforce for the US army, Syrio Forel was a fencing teacher from Northern Nicosia, Cyprus.”

“That’s good news right? We can work with that.” Gendry said not understanding the dispirited look on his partner’s face.

“Well there is one problem.”

“Which is….?”

Javier scratched his head and cleared his throat before speaking.

“They are both dead.”

“What? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“In 1999 Sergeant Sandor ‘The Hound’ Clegane led a squad of 12 men on a ground mission in Southern Lebanon. They were sent there to locate and clear a guerilla safe house. Clegane went in with half of his men while the other half stayed on watch. They walked straight into an ambush. There were several explosions and the rebels opened fire. Only two of the men covering the ones inside managed to escape. Their debriefing reports make it clear that there is no way any of the people inside could have survived the attack.”

“Holy shit.” Gendry shot up and started pacing the room.  

“Clegane _did_ survive the attack.... It totally checks out with Arya’s description; Possible military, dark brown hair, burn scars...Fuck.”

“It’s unlikely, but possible. Forel however…”

Javier put a file down on Gendry’s desk.

“is positively very dead.”

Gendry picked up the autoption report and took out a picture of a short dead man on a metal table, his skin the color of ash.

“This is him. Syrio Atilla Forel. Black curly hair, greying.” He scanned the report. “The height, age, everything matches. It’s the guy on the video...” He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger. “Twins maybe?”

“No,” Javier pointed at the paper. “It says here no siblings...” then he ran his finger over the record. “No siblings, no spouse, no children, no criminal record, no known links to any ideological groups. There is one interesting point though, Forel has spent a considerate amount of time living in Mexico City. That, and the fact that he’s no longer among the living on this planet as we speak.”

“But... we have video footage of him. He was at the Ramada, that guy...”

Gedry irritably tapped his finger on the picture of the dead Cypriot on the slab.

“...with Arya.”

“Yeah, what can I say. Maybe she is sharing a hotel room with a bunch of zombies of the army of the dead.” Javier japed, but Gendry didn’t laugh.

“What about the Chevrolet?”

“Stolen about a week ago in San Benito Xaltocan, a small town near Apizaco in Tlaxcala.”

Gendry picked up the map and scanned it.

“Here.”

Javier pointed at the town about 80 miles out of the center of the capital.

“Are there abandoned towns around there?”

“This is Mexico, there are abandoned towns everywhere. I will let the guys put up a list of places with hotels that are no longer in use.”

Gendry nodded and turned back to the computer screen as Javier left the messy office the agent had locked himself into since they came back with their newly acquired information.

The relief had only fully washed over him when he had first watched the security footage showing Arya alive and seemingly unharmed at the reception desk. Now that he had watched it nearly 30 times his focus had shifted to Agent Stark’s remarkable undercover skills. He played the video once again and observed his colleague do what she excelled in.

She moved casually and seemingly without restriction and without the background information no one would notice, at least not coming from her, the underlying complexity of the interaction between the clerk, the girl and the man chaperoning the young agent. _Damn, she is good_.

There were cameras behind the reception, directed at the guests so Arya’s face was clearly visible. Another tape had covered her walking in through the entrance and a third filmed the whole lobby and the reception desk capturing Arya from the rear.

Gendry paused the image and zoomed in on his colleagues shapely posterior. It was the first thing he had noticed...hell, the first thing all of them had noticed; the new set of clothes Arya was wearing, though all had had the decency to refrain from any comment. Everyone but Javier of course.

“Whoa, she’s alive and hot legs kicking alright.” He had turned to Gendry and slapped him on the back.

“Damn cabron, they have turned your yegua into a weapon of mass distraction man!”

He cursed silently. She _was_ a weapon of distraction, with her perfect legs and her mesmerizingly curvy hips in those tiny shorts, he realized as he felt the blood descend between his legs.

“Shit.”

Gendry let out an irritable sigh as he tried to push his manhood back to a more comfortable position in his jeans. He had thought of her at home behind the closed doors of his apartment. There it hadn’t been a problem but here in the office where anyone could walk in at any time he’d rather not have to deal with these kind of feelings.

He un-paused the video and followed Arya and the apparently dead Cypriot fencing teacher into the elevator on another screen. The last image he had of them was the one before they went into the room and the next shot, of them leaving the now empty hotel room, was 23 minutes and 27 seconds later. Gendry immediately labeled the very irrational thought that entered his mind as such, but it still unnerved him greatly. _What the hell were you doing in your room with that guy for 23 minutes?_ and the almost simultaneous; _Jeez man, get a grip, she’s doing her job_. He audibly clicked his tongue realizing how unprofessional he was behaving.

On a different computer he called up the data on the other dead man. Sandor Clegane’s military file popped up on the screen including a picture of the unburnt face of the sergeant looking smart in his uniform. The file contained the debriefing report with the statements from the two surviving squad members. Gendry’s eyes flashed over the info.

_How the hell did you survive that?_

He stared at the file for minutes when a deep frown appeared on his forehead, his eyes shot back and forth over a blank wall, giving indication that he was searching for something in his memory. With a couple of clicks another document opened on the screen, a list of wars and conflicts in the Middle East. Agent Waters’ ice blue eyes came to a stop when he had found what he was looking for.

_What were you doing there in the first place?_

\---

If she hadn’t just woken up she would have denied to have slept at all. Arya stretched her sore muscles extensively before she noticed she was wearing something that did not belong to her. All at once the events from the previous night came rushing back to her so fast that both her hands flew to cover her mouth and nose at their own accord impulsively. Preventing her from reacting on another instinct; deep draw for air.

 _Jaqen…_ Arya’s heart skipped a beat or two, seemed to flutter through her chest in panic before finding its regular place back in her body. Heat flared up in her core when she remembered all of the things they had done to each other. Images of the nightly adventure came back to her and the thought of how the assassin’s deep gaze bore into her soul, like she was a goddess he worshipped but also would fight for monocracy and absolute power, sent a shiver down her spine.   

She rubbed her face with both hands and pressed her thighs together. The memory of the body is amazing; even if her memory would have failed her, the recollection of her body brought the visions of last night back so vividly it was like her body was a blueprint along which Jaqen had mapped out his journey, every mark on it with its own visions and fantasies _. Oh shit...that was amazing…._ She raked her fingers half way through her tangled hair where she grabbed the roots and pulled back, creating a cage in front of her face with her arms. She let out a long harried moan _….I’m so fucked…._

“If a girl has decided she is ready, she must come to a man tomorrow at midday.” The mere thought made her shiver. Had she decided? Was she ready? _Ready for what?_ She checked her watch, 07:25. Hours to decide and yet...Part of her didn’t want to wait until midday, that part would run straight back into the assassin’s bedroom barefoot, clad in nothing but a man’s own shirt. Back into his arms where she had felt strangely safe, right at the very source of danger, the scorching heart of the vulcano.

But the more sensible, the more professional side of her knew that his invitation was full of meaning and possible traps. This whole thing was not just a sexy game. She was not here to sate her desires, romantic or sexual, nor his. The decisions she made could potentially save lives...or destroy them.

Arya squeezed her eyes shut trying to push away thoughts of Jaqen’s hands, lips and tongue on her skin and think logic. A difficult task when the brain is sending hormones through the veins like it is a superhighway of feelings. She grimaced when she realized how not-in control she was of her body. “A girl needs to practice restraint. She must control her face, her body and her mind at all times.” Oh he knew he was right. That smug bastard pushing her down onto the metal desk, his fingers still inside her as he lectured her… Arya bit her lip.

 _Oh shit, this is not helping._ She shook her head wildly. _What the fuck is wrong with me?_

She rolled her eyes when she realized the butterfly feeling in her stomach had descended between her legs again. A long deep suspiration was her attempt to regain focus on more lethal decisions. What did she have to lose and, did she have to discard one choice for the other?

On one side the comfort, pride and stability of her newly acquired position at the department, literally the dream job she had been fighting for since she resolved to pursue the remarkable career choice at the age of nine.

On the other side the dark rabbit hole that lured the deepest rooted feelings of intense inquisitiveness and an almost all encompassing desire to explore the areas beyond the red and white tape that confined her to the borders of her dream job. Feelings she had always controlled successfully but that had somehow grown stronger in the dark parts of her mind where they had been stuffed away and now obeyed their keeper no longer.

If she would walk into Jaqen’s room at midday would she have made a choice? Would she still be able to work on her mission without compromising her loyalty to the bureau?

She used to be the best at this; going undercover and morph into any personality she wanted, wrapping men (and women) around her fingers managing to purloin the information that would later cause their downfall. It had all been easy when there were no _real_ feelings involved but with Jaqen things had become infinitely more complex. There were feelings involved now she didn't even know she had. He himself was more complex, his motives were still completely unclear to her.

And then there was this other thing. She had assented to becoming his apprentice. The axis of her mission, the one she was supposed to shadow, to come to know as much about as she knew about herself. The most lethal of them all, had become _her master_.

He would teach her but she wasn’t sure what his teachings would entail. At the time she had understood he meant to teach her about deception detection, micro expressions, hiding her motives, her emotions, becoming like him.

Oh, she wanted that...she wanted that too much to be ethical.

But maybe that would come at a high prize. Could he ask her to kill?

“Too much power is in the hands of people whose intentions cause destruction. We have to make them stop.”

…. _we_ have to make them stop _._

How far was she in the process of becoming a member of the terrorist cell? Was last night part of her inauguration? Had Faye had the same treatment? Could that be at the base of her strong animosity? She didn’t want to linger on that thought.

Did being ready perhaps mean ready to really join whatever cell, group, denomination or sect it was she was trying to infiltrate. In that case, she decided, her dream job and her curiosity could be simultaneously worked on.

 

It appeared that with all her midnightly activity she had burnt a lot of calories because the rumble of her stomach urged her to seize her musing and get up and going. When she stood up to get dressed in her own clothes she was again confronted with the stiffness in some specific muscles that she hadn’t used for a while.

After a couple of minutes she stalked toward the door in a pair of dark blue skinny jeans ripped on one knee, the cuffs of her legs folded back and a dark blue and red checkered shirt buttoned down a hint. It were her own clothes in which she felt comfortable and though it wasn’t the apex of sexyness they made her look feminin nonetheless. She put on the white worn out sneakers for a lack of fashion insight and left her room without her blades today.

\---

Varys looked at her and smiled. Arya looked back at him and wondered if he knew about her and Jaqen _._ All that training had not been for nothing. She tried to hide her unease and gave him an innocent smile.

“Mornin’.” She said as she plopped down on one of the chairs. She didn’t dare to look directly at Faye who was sitting at the opposite corner of the table resting her elbows on the wood  holding a coffee cup.

Before descending to the kitchen, Arya had washed up in the shower and made sure the marks she acquired the night before were hidden under her clothing but knowing they were there was enough to make her feel uneasy in the presence of the other woman.

“Good morning dear.” Vays said eyeing her with a content demeanor. “Your trip to the capital did you good. You look dazzling in your own clothes.”

“Uh, thanks.”

In her peripheral she noticed Faye’s face contort into a sneer.

The spider and the hacker were the only two of the group in the kitchen that morning, something Arya was thankful for because she hadn’t thought about a decent way to be in the same room as the leader of the group and the rest of them without having to go out of her way to keep her cool.

Arya glanced at Faye sideways. The small woman didn’t seem to notice, she just stared at her coffee. _I don’t think she knows._

If the bald man knew anything he did not betray a thing to the other woman who’s clothes Arya no longer wore.

Varys handed her a steaming cup of coffee.

Arya thanked the man and he gave her a ballsy smile. Then he turned back to the counter and when he returned to the table he was holding a plate with his breakfast special; refried beans, avocado and cold toast.

The agent gave the spider a sweet smile and started eating.

“Meet me upstairs in 10 minutes, we have work to do.” Faye said in a flat voice directed at Arya while she got up and walked to the door. She put her empty cup on the counter and left without waiting for a reply.

Varys smiled again a bit apologetically.

“Are you girls making progress?” it sounded like making conversation.

“I really don’t know.” Arya answered shrugging. She finished her meal and her coffee and walked to the counter.

“I’m about to give it another go.”  

She started to clean the scraps from the plate to wash it but Varys put his pudgy hand on hers staving her actions.

“It’s better is Faye doesn’t find out.” he whispered to her while giving her a meaningful look.

For a moment Arya froze and thought about pretending she didn’t know what the spider was talking about but she realized his warning might be meant to keep the fragile peace and his genuinely worried look emphasized the earnest of his words so she thought the better of it and instead gave him a nod. The effeminate man then took the plate, turned and started cleaning the dishes as if no words had passed between them.

Arya hesitated for a bit but then turned and left the kitchen.

 

As she ascended the stairs to meet her sister, her thoughts had started a fight for supremacy on the inside of her skull. How did Varys know, had he heard something (she cursed herself when she thought about how Jaqen had muffled her moans) or had he told him? At least now she was sure Faye didn’t know but the fat man’s warning unsettled her. The idea of her informing her hacking mentor about her adventure with their ‘brother’ sounded too crazy to even think about and Varys knew Faye and she were not particularly close so why then did he make a point of warning her? He did not really think she would tell her sister just to irk her or make her jealous? Or had he meant she should not find out in general? With that Arya could fully agree. Before she had come to a complete conclusion she found herself in front of her sister’s door.

She didn’t have to knock.

“Are you just going to stand there?” Faye’s irritated voice came from the other side.

Arya sighed and pushed through the door into the dark room.

\---

Despite it being fully light outside Faye worked almost completely in the dark due to her boarded up windows, as always some candles burned in the corner. She sat on the edge of her mattress typing commands into a system. Sitting down and viewed from above the tiny waiflike woman looked even smaller, her gaunt face accentuated by the bright light of the computer screen.

Arya sat down beside her. “What do you want me to do?”

“Watch and learn and get this over with.” Faye scoffed, her voice laced with arrogance.

She showed Arya a series of complicated commands to side-step and disable firewalls, then had her perform the same steps on the second computer. She repeated the steps flawlessly and ended up in an encrypted part of a government system.

“Find me the key for this” Faye’s scrawny pale finger pointed at a cluster of encrypted data on what looked to be a part of an Israeli based network.

“This is no lesson, we need this info and fast. I will keep them entertained while you try not to fuck this up.” her words were sharp and vicious.

Arya’s jaw clenched but she did as she was told. After a good 90 frustrating minutes she managed to decypher one of the strings of data and managed to breach the security.

A white page appeared on the screen with a logo of a menorah seven-lampstand, the symbol of Judaism, encircled by a Hebrew text.

“Faye?”

The master hacker looked up from her own screen and stared at Arya’s. Her lips moved as she read the text around the logo.

"Where no counsel is, the people fall, but in the multitude of counselors there is safety."

_She reads Hebrew..._

Faye’s mouth curled into a sefcontent grin. “Bingo. Congratulations kiddie, you just hacked  Mossad.”

Arya frowned and then her face took on a look of disbelief.

“Mossad, we are hacking Mossad?”

“Yep.” Faye moved over to take over the control not taking her eyes of the screen.

“Mossad as in... the national intelligence agency of Israel Mossad?”

“Well well, someone’s done their homework.” she sneered with an undertone of suspicion.

Arya realized she should keep her mouth shut from now on. She knew Mossad was the  Institute for Intelligence and Special Operations based in Tel Aviv, responsible for [ intelligence collection ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Intelligence_\(information_gathering\)) , [ covert operations ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Covert_operation) , and [ counterterrorism ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Counterterrorism). She felt the blood drain from her face and was happy that they were operating in the dark. She tried an attempt at distraction.

“Why the hell are we doing that?”

“You will know why.” Faye didn’t look at her.

“When?”

She turned to Arya, irritation burning in her eyes. “When it’s time, not before. Now get back to work.”

Arya looked at her watch - 11:51.

“I can’t I have to...be somewhere at noon.”

Faye stared at her intently and for a moment Arya thought the woman would lash out at her.

She didn’t.

Instead she turned back to the screen and resumed her operation.

“Fine, take the other computer to your room and resume breaking the rest of the codes there.”

She appeared indifferent but there was a hint of restraint in her voice and the way she moved. It was clear to Arya this wasn’t what Faye actually wanted to say, but she wasn not going to wait what it was the senior actually meant to tell her.

She picked up the computer Faye had been working on previously and quickly slipped out of the room. Two doors down she went into her own room and left the computer there.  

As she walked down the stairs she went through ways to tell Luwin that the group was hacking into systems of the Israeli CIA counterpart. She wondered how off-limits it would be for her to actually take part in the hacking. She assumed they would maybe intervene somehow before letting the mission get out of hand.

She started walking slower and slower as she neared the wooden door of Jaqen’s room.

Although she spent a lot of time alone, it seemed never enough to deal with the new information she gathered. The heavy wooden door she now stood facing was her gateway to what she expected would probably be the next adventure. _I really feel like Alice in fucking wonderland. Tumbling from one situation into the next. I wonder if I need to shrink or grow to enter._ She almost giggled, a combination of nervousness, angst and excitement.

“Sure you are ready Alice?” she whispered to herself.

It was like it was not her hand that moved towards the wooden door, like it were not her knuckles that produced the hollow sound on the thick boards. It was as if she was playing a first person shooter game where only your hands are visible and you know they don’t really belong to you.

The pause that followed was just long enough to birth the feeling of doubt, give rise to the impulse to turn and run but Jaqen’s voice from the other side put a stop to the budding flight impulse.

“Come.”

Arya straightened her shoulders and calmed herself by slowly blowing out the gulp of air she had been retaining in her lungs.

_I am ready._

_\---_

The first thing she noticed before even using her eyesight was the distinct familiar herbal smell that swirled around her as she opened the door. Though it was midday and light was spilling in through the high window dappling the mossy stone wall on the other side, the room also bathed in low flickering light from candles that were burning throughout the room. The combination gave the space a surreal hypnagogic ambiance.

Facing away from her, Jaqen was kneeling down before the low altar in the corner wearing his grey hooded cloak with the cowl pulled up.

“Oh” she mumbled certain she had misunderstood the specifics of his invitation, it looked like she was interrupting some kind of ritual.

She was about to leave the room when his low voice stopped her.

“Stay.” he commanded her not moving to face her.

Arya hesitated at the door but decided this command was clear enough and stepped in.

“Close the door.” his voice sounded like a soft silken purr.

She did as he bid her and then waited for further instructions standing motionless with her back against the door, observing the German hitman perform his ritual. The whole room pulsated with a strange mystical energy Arya had never before experienced.

It felt like a good 60 seconds had gone by before she heard him whispering unfamiliar words as if in prayer. She could not make out any words, nor did she understand the language but the sacrosanctity of the ceremony was perceptible in her very bones.

“Valar Morghulis” he silently ended the prayer and though she could not guess the meaning to the words she remembered to have read on the coin, the way he spoke the them sent an overwhelming feeling of reverence through her, wholly despite her normally secular attitude.

The kneeling assassin slowly rose to his full height and turned toward her. He regarded her standing at the door and blinked lingeringly. Arya stared back at him.

He looked like a different person gazing at her like that. Yesterday his burning eyes had regarded her with a hungry predatory gaze but now his face had taken on a very different semblance. He looked to be examining her, not by inspecting her outward appearance but by probing her soul. He was not looking _at_ her but rather, or so it felt, _inside_ of her. A tingling feeling that started in the nape of her neck prickled down the back of her arms and created a shiver that rolled down her back like a cool breaking wave.

“You are here.” he stated, the tone of his voice betrayed no emotion.

“Yes.” she replied not taking her eyes off her master.

His face was the same but the occasion turned him into a fully different man.

It made agent Stark feel like she was dealing with a different person.

It made Arya Stark feel a craving for the man she was dealing with yesterday.

“Is a girl sure she wants to do this thing? Once we start this, there is no going back.” he warned her.

The gravity of the warning was not missed and Arya was well aware that since the master was experienced and she had no idea what was going to happen he would be able to exploit his position but she could no longer suppress her desire to know, to understand.

She nodded. Her throat felt dry as she spoke. “I am still here…”

She had already surrendered to him last night and there was no way she was going to walk away from this now, not when she was so close to finding out a thing she felt was of great importance.

“Yes.” He said. She thought she detected the faintest of smiles play around his lips but it was gone before he could be certain.

“You are still here.”

“Come.” His eyes burned patterns into her soul as he stared into her eyes.

As Arya crossed the space from the door towards her master, her eyes flew to the table and then to the bed and in a flash she saw images of last night as if she had been observing the scene from the perspective of a third person. Heat creeped up her neck and her pulse increased.

Jaqen calmly observed her walk towards him. His mien not betraying even the slightest bit of emotion to give Arya an indication to gauge _his_ frame of mind.

He sat down on the floor, the altar to his left and motioned Arya to take place in front of him. She obliged and mimicked his cross legged position facing him. Particles of dust shimmered like tiny silver fish in the ray of sunlight that fell in through the high window behind them.   

Jaqen took the altar and placed it in the space between him and his new apprentice, opened the hidden drawer and produced the little pouch Arya already knew the contents of. She wondered if he knew how far she got exploring before he had caught her red handed. He probably did know, nothing seemed to go by the man unnoticed, but even if he did, he made no comment on it.

Instead he asked her a question.

“Do you know what this is?” He held the brown substance out for her to see.

The use of drugs and alcohol was a common thing in most echelons of the underworld, core business in the narcotic branch. On several missions she had used substances. Cannabis, hash and occasionally cocaine or xtc. It had been expected from her being so close to the most prominent figures she was shadowing. She had once been quite adept at functioning under influence. Liked the feeling too. As a rebellious hacking chick, she decided, it was normal she’d know her thing or two about substances.

“It’s hash.” she replied almost cocky.

Without showing any sign of affirmation or disapproval, Jaqen dropped his eyes down to the altar where he started to prepare what he needed for what seemed to be a smoking session.

Not quite what she had expected when to told her to meet him at noon. Though it was very apparent to the young agent that this had nothing to do with drug use like she knew it from  previous missions. A sacred ceremony, shamanistic in kind. Every step in the process done with full attention. Arya observed her master breathlessly. His movements deliberate, a sequence of steps he had clearly performed hundreds of times.

His tanned hands unrolled a piece of the translucent brown paper on the altar. About 2.5 inches before he used the thin metal stick to tear a clear cut. He then took out the bundle of dried herbs and meticulously removed the leaves from the stems. Arya wondered at the combination of concentration and adroitness that went into this part of the process. A step he had probably repeated many times.

As she had noticed before the herbs were not cannabis, but seemed to be a bunch of three different kinds of plants. One with long thin leaves, light of color like sage, another with short round darker leaves now dried out and shriveled up. He put down a thin layer of each plant on top of the paper he had prepared.

he last plant was a more like a stick really and instead of the few leaves Jaqen used the nail of his thumb to peel thin strips off the bark and placing four pieces, thin as a hair, on top of the bed of herbs. The measurements were not random, rather it seemed there was a clear measured ratio. Before proceeding, the master placed the roll of paper and the herbs back in the pouch and set it aside.

He picked up the hashish, slowly unwrapped the transparent foil around it and used a candle to warm the brown resin. It needed hardly any softening.

 _Supreme quality, probably Afghan stuff, best I’ve ever seen._ Arya thought as the smell of it became heavier in the room.

The assassin’s skillful fingers created a thin roll of the stuff between his upturned fingertips as thin as the strips of bark and placed it on the prepared substratum. The unhurried and mindful way in which he performed the rite enveloped Arya in a strange kind of calm.

She had been watching the whole procedure breathlessly with her full attention and it was when Jaqen’s hands stopped moving that she looked up and found herself staring into her master’s clear eyes. Her heart skipped a beat and she instantly started biting her lip. The master appraised her without any visible sign of judgement. His face completely void of any emotion.

Unreadable.

_Yes, I want to learn this. There’s no one better than him._

Her first instinct was to avert her eyes but she stopped herself and instead returned his gaze with a look of determination and audacity.

_That’s my girl…  still oblivious to your own potential. A girl’s trust, that is what a man desires now. Give me your trust and I will return you the world for it._

He allowed the slightest of emotion to flash across his face before bending forward again to resume his preparation.

_Approval._

Arya’s heart fluttered.

The gossamer thin paper with the different herbal mixture looked frail and shatterable in the huge hands of the assassin master. However he proficiently rolled the paper between the three first fingers of both hands into a thin tube without spilling a single piece of its contents. He brought the paper to his mouth and peered at Arya from under his brow as he leisurely licked the edge of it.

Fire in his eyes showed Arya that this was still the same man who had ‘punished’ her yesterday. No action of his seemed to be aleatory. _He_ decided what emotions passed through his closely guarded dissimulation.

Yet, she had felt the frays of his veil brush her fingers, a possibility to grasp her chance and unravel a suture to uncover the man hidden behind the mask. If there was anyone who could get to the subversive it was her. She could not imagine anyone more able to get as close as she on occasion had gotten to him.

Arya willed her fluttering heart into submission and kept a cool determination guarding the underlying hunger she felt for the man across from her.

He didn’t even try to hide it now, Jaqen’s lips twitched and pulled his mouth into a lopsided smile. Just shortly, a small reward for her state of control.

The preparation work was done.

The assassin lit a kindle stick on one of the tapers next to the altar. It flared up and the glowing piece of wood instantly started to fill the room with the smokey sandalwood smell Arya recognized from her master’s hair and clothes.

He lit the roll of herb with the piece of sandalwood kindle and then left the stick to burn out on a small stone slate. The smell of sandalwood now mixed with the scent of the hashish and the concoction of herbs rolled into the cigarette. Woody, herby, sweet, like cloves and spices. Eddies of smoke escaped from its tip and formed intricate gray patterns in the light cascading through the high window.

Arya had smoked pot before, in different settings, with different people, for different reasons but they hadn’t even taken a hit, yet she was fully aware that this was a different kind of usage altogether. The spirituality and sacrosanctity of the ritual reverberated through her being.

Her companion took a long draft of the reefer. She observed him and marveled at the beauty of the dangerous dissident sitting across from her.

Manly

Self-assured

Intense.

Instead of blowing out he let the thick white smoke gradually escape from his mouth. His cool blue eyes scrutinized her face from behind the swirls of fog, he assessed her, determining if she was ready to take the next step and join him in what was about to come.

Arya straightened her back and returned his gaze with a unflinching stare.

 _A girl is ready_.

He reached out his hand and held the smoking roll of herb out to her between his thumb and two fingers without a word. She looked at the the offering and accepted it, her fingers brushing his as she took the cigarette from his hand.

The light touch affected her more than she’d expected after the intense contact they had had mere hours before. How was it possible that his hands had been all over her, even the most intimate parts of her body and yet the surface of skin where her fingertips touched his seemed to send electricity throughout her whole body.

Still wondering she brought the spliff to her lips.

“Easy.” Jaqen purred almost seductively.

When the fumes hit her throat she realized she should have taken the master’s warning more serious. The sting of the smoke made her cough uncontrollably. Had her heaving for air between coughs.

The assassin handed Arya a glass of water, slightly shaking his head at her undervaluation of his words.

“A girl had better heed her master’s advice, a man knows of what he speaks.”

Arya wheezed a bit even after drinking the water but nodded her head indicating she would obey her tutor more strictly the next time. It had indeed been quite a while since she had smoked and she had overestimated her tolerance to the substance.

She took another hit, this time inhaling slower and much less deep then turned her head to blow out the smoke away from her master.

Jaqen let his eyes slide over the marks he had created on the now exposed white skin of his apprentice’s neck and felt something inside him stir.

 _Mine_.

Almost instantly a flash of castigation appeared on his face but had disappeared as quick as it had surfaced before the girl could look back and notice.

Minutes of silence filled the nebulous room. Master and apprentice faced each other quietly though strangely enough the silence never felt awkward or uncomfortable. They sat there taking in every minute detail of the other, observing each other breathe and just be.

Gradually Arya started to feel the effects of the resin become perceptible in her body. Her eyelids became heavier as if her thick fringe of lashes started to weigh them down, her thoughts became hazier and a deep relaxation took over her muscles.

Time seemed to slow down and everything started to move in slow motion. Blinking her eyes, her thoughts, the movement of her body.

Her mind however became all the more focussed.

The stretch in time made it possible for her to mentally walk around her thoughts to observe them from all viewpoints and therewith coming to a more complete and exhaustive view of the whole. She let her perceptions tumble and girate in front of her mind's eye wondering at the newfound perspectives it gave her. Her eyes were staring but their physical function was redundant for the use. Until they focussed on him.

A terrorist, an assassin. She tilted her head looking at him with a distance created by the drug. Her face emotionless. Justification? She thought out loud.

“Why do you do what you do?” she whispered with a voice still hoarse from coughing.

His reply was laconic as he stared at his hand while he slowly clenched and unclenched his fingers, then turned his hand inspecting it.

“What is real and what is not.”

“What is true and what is a lie.”

“Right, wrong.”

“Black and white.”

“When you truly know, it is all….”

He paused and Arya felt a change inside her as well as around her. The assassin’s eyes now locked into hers.

“...slipping through your fingers…. like sand…”

\---

The change she felt from inside made her look down at her own hands to check if they were still there.

_Sand…._

Suddenly she was no longer in the room of the abandoned Mexican hotel.

The cold grey stones of the walls were gone, the decrepit roof over their heads had vanished and the hard wooden floor beneath them had made way for a soft warm carpet of sand.

Endless waving dunes of glittering sand lit by the full moon stretched out around her as far as her eyes could see. The night sky overhead presented hues of yellow in the distance, orange flowing into reddish magenta, lavender, violet, darker mauve and wine and then darker hues of purple; plum and eggplant that turned even darker until it turned into a deep purplish blue leaning to black with thousands and thousands of stars scattered across its surface. A twinkling nightgown of dark billowing silk adorned with crystals that was pulled around the world like a twinkling velvety dome was placed over her surrounding her on all sides.

Over _them_.

Jaqen was with her, wherever it was she now found herself. She did not see him but she felt his presence and, what was stranger, she did not only feel his presence she felt _one_ with him.

Arya slowly turned her head looking around but her eyes did not find her master. At the same time she knew she did not have to find him.

He was here, as much as she was here.

They were sitting in _exactly_ the same place, looking through the same eyes.

Her body and mind, every fiber of her very being aware of his presence. Like they shared one body, mind and soul.

She tried to open her eyes, further, to wake up from the dream she was sure she had slipped into. Looked down and her hand, digging her fingers deep into the warm sand until it became cooler underneath. When she brought the fistful of sand closer to her face, opening her fingers to inspect, the grains started to pour through her fingers, tumbling down again to become one with the rest of the blanket covering the earth around her. The sand she had held in her hand now indistinguishable from the sand around her.

There it was again, no... _still_.

When she let it reach her, it engulfed her wholly, the feeling of her master being with her even though she did not see him physically.

“Are you….?” Are you here, she wanted to ask but she already knew the answer.

“Yes.” he said, his voice calm and composed.

“Do.. you…” see what I see, she wanted to say but stopped mid sentence. She was wasting words asking questions to herself.

“Yes.” he said. “A man sees.”

 _No...this can’t be happening. It can’t be real..._ but it felt more real than reality itself.

_Black magic?_

_Shamanism?_

_Some kind of spell._

_No, the drugs...it’s the drugs…_ She shook her head wildly and pressed her hands into the sand to get up.

 

Arya stumbled as she stood toppling a taper next to her on the floor. Its molten wax coagulated on the cool stone. She had to steady herself against the wall feeling the uneven surface of it under her fingers. Gasping for breath she stared at her hand against the stone wall and then jerked her head coming eye to eye with her master who was still sitting on the ground, looking up at her with a tranquil expression.

“What….was....that…?”

Her eyebrows twisted from a deep frown into a surprised expression.

“What…. just happened?” she had to swallow before she could go on

“...w....was that real?” she managed to utter with effort. Her eyes were huge with disbelief, her breathing erratic. She looked down at the floor.

Jaqen didn’t answer her, instead he just observed her and let the apparition work in on her.

He saw her eyes, staring but not seeing, move to different parts of the floor now as if she was looking to find something real there, something concrete and palpable, something from this world.

A frown appeared on her face as she looked back at him. Her lips parted slightly ready to bring about a question but then she closed her mouth again, started biting her lip and resumed her search for logic and sense across the uneven weathered floorboards.

“Wha…” she breathed after a couple of moments.

She turned her head to her master again.

“How???”

Clear-cut perplexity defined her expression, her brow still heavily creased.

“Voodoo?” she asked when he didn’t answer her immediately.

Jaqen suppressed a chuckle.

“It is called shared consciousness.”

Arya’s concentrated expression did not change.

“Did you do this?”

“The phenomenon only occurs if _all_ participants allow this thing to happen, subconsciously or knowingly. The ritual merely enhances the clearity and amenability of possibilities of the mind.”

Parts of her brain started accepting the assassin’s explanation but the sensible side of her was far from convinced.

“You…”

“I…”

“We were the s….in the...” she shook her head in disbelief.

“A girl needs not explain, a man knows, he was there.”

“YES!” she almost shouted. “You know! because you were there. And you know I know. And I know you know. I can feel it! I am as sure of it as I am about us being here right now! How is that possible?” She had to steady herself on the wall.

“A man has said, shared consciousness, lovely girl. It is just that. A man and a girl shared consciousness until a girl decided to break concentration.” The seated assassin replied patiently, the remark was not not meant to chide her.

He motioned his apprentice to take place across from him.

Her befuddled expression was almost comical but Jaqen kept a straight face.

“Ok…..but…” She glanced around the room motioning with her arms. “We were not here! We were...well... you know where we were…. Where were we?”

“A girl tells a man that she has seen.”

“So has a man! You were there!”

“Yes.”

“What was that place?” her fingers nervously played with the stitchings on the shoulder of her sleeve.

“A desert.”

“But where?”

“I don’t know.”

A lie. She caught it before he could rule his face. He _did_ know and if he knew maybe he had taken(?!) her there on purpose. _The phenomenon occurs if all participants_ allow it _to happen,_ subconsciously or knowingly _. I might have allowed it subconsciously but he knew what he was doing. It was a desert, there was nothing else to see...Why lie about it?_

Arya narrowed her eyes and stared at her master as she slowly sank to the floor sitting down like the man had bid her to.

“I have smoked hash before, but this has never happened to me.” She said a bit suspiciously.

“Is it the herbs that you added, what are they, some kind of hallucinative?” she was so out of sorts that she forgot she was talking to. The German assassin however didn’t seem too bothered with her lack of decorum.

He let her figure it out herself.

She frowned again, pensively and bit her lip while her eyes moved without taking in any of her surroundings _. No, that can’t be. Hallucinative effects don’t subside upon will, effects mostly last hours. I don’t know of any hallucinative that sets on so quickly either._ She looked at the man across from her.

_Master assassin and master in poisons, i’m at disadvantage here._

“Can you just go into my mind and read it?” she asked after a moment staring at her master pensively.

“Why does a girl ask things to which she knows the answer?”

“You can’t.” She said confidently, her voice strong with conviction. She did not have to apply her face reading skills. The thing she had experienced was not mindreading. It involved no specific thoughts. A feeling, an immensely intense feeling of yes, _shared consciousness._ But  there had been an equal balance between them. The master might know what he was doing but he had no more control over her than she had had over him. Every question that involved inquiring what Jaqen knew about what had just transpired between them was a question she could ask, and answer, herself because they had experienced it as if they were the same person.

Jaqen nodded. She understood. He remembered the first time he had experienced the revelation, the sensation he felt. Scepticism mixed with wonder and curiosity. Disbelief at first and fear. Did they know everything that was in his head? No...that was not how it felt. The knowledge of the world and beyond. Too much to take in. He remembered the shock. His lovely girl was taking it rather well.

She sat in silence for a while. One hit of the joint had sent her to another realm, showed her a state of consciousness she did not know existed until mere minutes ago. Shared consciousness. If she were to believe her master she had allowed it to transpire by opening up to it. She was going to need a while to process the peculiar awareness, understand it for as far as that was possible.

“Is this why you called me here, is this what you wanted me to see?”

Jaqen picked the piece of sandalwood up from the slate and held it in the flame of the candle. The reflection of the fire made his blue eyes look like they were on fire when he stared at her through the flame.

“Lovely girl” he purred.

“This is only the beginning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks guys for sticking with me. I hope I was able to convey the feeling of the trip.   
> Please let me know what you think! It's super helpful to know your thoughts on what's going on!
> 
> Not making any promises but I will try to update a bit more frequently.


	17. Very good work Agent Stark,,,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I'm gonna go a bit political on you here. Don't take it against me, it's just a story. It also doesn't mean in any way that I am representing truths here. I realize that bringing out this chapter now that the conflicts at the border of Israel are on edge is a bit risky but it just happens to be part of the plot and if I don't post it now I won't be able to post the next chapters either :P.  
> Some information is based on real-life facts taken from Wikipedia among other sources but there are also parts that are totally fictional.  
> I wanted to create a bit of depth in the story and I think I am getting there :D  
> Please let me know in the comments if you dig it or if you think it's horrible. Either way I really appreciate the feedback!

He spoke with his eyes. A minimal tilt of the head. Her opinion was wanted.

“Very close.” she answered him casting her eyes down. Then gathered the courage to form the sentence.

“Brother, you know I respect your ascendancy.”

He didn’t interrupt.

The woman shuffled her feet.

“But she is a liability.” she glanced at her brother sideways, half staring at the ground avoiding eye contact.

“Yes.” he acknowledged her conviction.

Now she did turn her head to look at him. He returned her expectant look with a cool stare.

“But the girl is indispensable.”

\---

He had sent her outside to get some air, the sun on her face did her good after hours in the half dark. Dusk would set in in less than an hour so she heeded her master’s advice and was now leaned against the backrest of the broken bench. The warm Mexican wind rustled the leaves of the palm tree overhead and sent a wave through the carpet of vines that covered the old stone walls of the courtyard.

She looked at her hands.

It all still felt unreal.

It seemed as if she was miles away from the real world. With no way of knowing how long it would take before she’d set foot in her office again. Such was the job, immersed in a mission she was living a different life for a while, like she had so many times but this was altogether very different. How could she possibly start to explain to her colleagues what had expired, what she had experienced. If she would ever get to report back she thought it better to leave this bit out. How could they even understand when she herself did not even quite understand what had happened to her.

A butterfly landed on a yellow flower that was swaying in the breeze near her feet.

Had they received her message? She was sure her team had gotten the note she had left with the Ramada desk clerk. Would they be looking for her, for them? Professionally she knew that was the procedure but somehow she was not eager to go back to the office at all. However strange and unbelievable it all felt to her now, something (or was it maybe someone) had her hooked on the surrealistic situation she now found herself in. There was so much more to explore here, so much that she could have in no way envisioned before she had taken on the mission.

For a fact the pivot man and main target of her operation had also become her portal to access a part of herself she had previously been unaware even existed. Giving her access to skills she never knew she were capable of. That alone was enough to inspire her to stay and learn. The master taught her skills no one could teach her.

But when she was totally honest with herself it were not the just abilities he could teach her... The assassin himself, dangerous as he was alluring...or maybe he was so alluring because of the danger he emanated, had an unexplainable attraction to her. From the moment she had seen him on the picture in Dr. Ekman’s room she had felt somehow drawn to him. Not because of his looks, but because of something in his eyes that had locked onto a thing inside of her.

He challenged her, something she had missed in her life. He enchanted her with his calm, with his authority that seemed so natural, with his knowledge and skill. He was dangerous and deadly and that made him so very very attractive in her eyes. In other men she had been with she had always found a weakness that she had found off-putting, she had yet to find the chink in Jaqen’s armor.

Professionally this was inadequacy, a lack of proficiency to keep distance. A dangerous flaw that made her unsuited for the line of work she was in. It had never before happened.

_It’s because he’s a master manipulator._

She tried to get rid of the feeling that she was somehow to blame as much as he was but she knew laying the whole responsibility with him was a lie.

She tried to think it over but got more and more distracted by a more mundane effect of the hash that had started to kick in. Arya recognized the feeling immediately; her blood sugar level had dropped drastically and she started to suffer from a terrible case of ‘the munchies’.

Realizing she was not ready to run into anyone and talk she decided to find something to eat before the rest of the adversaries would show up in the kitchen to eat.

She got up and went for the patio doors hoping the others would be out or in their rooms. As she neared the kitchen the hope not to find any of the cohabitants there upon opening the door grew bigger and bigger. With her hand on the handle she waited to listen for an indication of activity and only when she was sure no one was there she pushed the door open.

_Damn it._

Varys looked up from his seat at the table and extensively studied the young woman. A saucy smile appeared on his round face. Without a word he indicated at the counter with a tilt of his head. Arya followed the direction indicated to find a plate with tamales, some fresh cut fruit and a glass of water sitting on the countertop.

She smiled. The spider was aware of all that went on in the house and acted accordingly.

“Thank you.” Arya said softly, walking over to take the food.

“Is it ok if I take it to my room? I think I need to lay down for a bit.”

The spider smiled a friendly smile.

“You do that.” he just said and went back to the stack of papers he was reading.

\---

Only when she closed the door of her temporary lodging behind her she felt like she could breathe again. She put the plate of food down on the bedside table and drank the water.

Stuffing her mouth with chicken-mole tamale she thought back on the curious afternoon with her new master and her conversations with him that followed.

-

_“Wait, please. I need to ask you something.”_

_A dip of his head indicated he was listening._

_“I need to understand how this works. I am a bit freaked out to be honest.”_

_She blew a strand of hair out of her face. When it fell back she used her fingers to tuck it behind her ear._

_“How does it work?”_

_“How can a man tell a girl this. If a girl still has questions she has to go back. This is not a thing to explain, a girl has seen for herself. Words do not suffice.”_

_She understood what her master meant but it wasn’t of any help to her. She bit her lip._

_“What did a girl feel?” he tried._

_“I felt...one…” she stammered while thinking back at the state she had left._

_“With?”_

_“With you…”_

_Jaqen kept staring at her without a reply, vocally as well as physically. He wanted more. She tried to mentally go back to the bizarre state and reflected deeper._

_“No.” she finally said._

_“...With everything.”_

_Jaqen bowed his head. That was the right answer._

_They had returned to the ritual but her master had not allowed her to reach the same state again. Instead he made her practice_ detecting intention _._

_They would take turns thinking of a situation and then would study the other trying to detect the emotion that it called up within that person._

_After a couple of turns irritation was mixed into every situation Arya imagined. She was sure she ruled her face but it took the master mere moments to gauge her state._

_“Joy.”_

_“Boredom.”_

_“A man wonders... what caused a girl to feel jealousy.” he had said raising an eyebrow._

_She knew Jaqen was training her and would therefore not lie about her guesses but out of six tries only once had she been able to appraise his state of mind correctly, and when she was honest it was more a wild guess than that she actually discerned his state with perception of higher consciousness._

_“Seeing is not always done with the eyes, lovely girl. A girl needs to rely on more than her usual senses to pick up what cannot be seen or heard.”_

_Arya understood but could not apply the technique her master seemed to exploit without the slightest effort._

_“Moments ago a girl and a man shared a mind, does a girl remember how she reached that state?”_

_She tried to recall the moment in her mind but came to the conclusion that she had ‘done’ nothing special, it had just happened. All she had done was relax and open up._

_That’s probably the only difference. I was not trying…_

_“ I think I know.”_

_He appraised her._

_“Then show a man.”_

_They both sat up straighter and he gave her a nod to indicate she could begin. The master assassin’s face was completely void from expression. He just gave her a blank stare. From his face she could not deduce his thoughts, neither his pose or posture betrayed any emotion._

_I have to stop trying to see._

_Her scrutinizing look softened, her shoulders relaxed and so did her focus. Instead of scanning Jaqen’s face for any signs of emotional leakage she slowly closed her eyes and concentrated on her own breathing. Gradually the focus on her respiration shifted to his and then she let go of that too and focussed on nothing. Behind her closed lids she floated in an empty space, open to any kind of stimulus that could reach her._

_That’s when she felt it._

_It started in her stomach, a feeling that did not originate from inside of her. Then it slowly spread to her heart, a moment later she was filled with it completely as if it was her who called up the emotion but without the genesis of the situation that caused the feeling in the first place. The emotion was not clean, it was a mix of more than one feeling but the superior sentiment was clearly perceptible. It made her feel thoroughly uneasy._

_Worry._

_She opened her eyes and found her master staring back at her. Unmoved and as emotionless as before but somehow she now saw the signs or rather, felt them._

_“I felt...worry.” She spoke frowning._

_“Does this feeling belong to a girl?”_

_Arya shook her head._

_“No, I don’t think so.”_

_“Then a girl must have picked up on the feeling that goes with the state of the other.”_

_“Is it?”_

_Jaqen turned his head and stared into the flame of the candle that was burning next to the altar._

_“Just so.”_

-

Her head felt like it was filled with cotton but heavy, pushing from the inside out. All the strange things that had happened in such a short time and then thinking on them had worn her out.

_Maybe I really need to lie down and try to sleep a bit._

Arya placed her head on the pillow and stared at the blistering paint. When the patterns of green and dirty white started to blur before her eyes she closed them and tried to permit her brain some rest but no matter what she tried, she just kept going back to that all encompassing feeling of being one with the universe. Trying to wrap her head around it and failing, she realized that intelligence didn’t cut it. The whole thing had happened outside of her brain and so, she decided, there was no way she could solve what had just happened with her mere human grey matter.

Arya struggled through a cycle of falling asleep, dreaming, waking up in the middle of the dream and wondering if she were truly awake or still dreaming, then falling asleep again.

_Can one fall asleep in a dream and when you wake up from that sleep, are you awake then?_

When she checked her watch three hours had passed and she felt more tired than before.

 _I didn’t come here to figure out how big the universe is,_ she thought, so she sat up, picked the laptop off of the floor and placed it open on the bedside table. With her legs dangling over the edge of the bed, the computer on the bedside table and her back to the door she took the computer out of the slumber mode.

She figured her time was better spent trying to hack into whatever it was the group was trying to get to before they did, if she’d succeed maybe she could prevent them from doing too much damage.

Already having performed the procedure she was faster breaking into the file she had hacked together with Faye this morning. It took her considerably less time now that she had already done it once but got bounced back by another firewall. It took her another 35 minutes and several failed attempts to disable the firewall long enough to slip behind the security and plant a bug that let her roam freely from the outside.

The white page with the logo of the menorah encircled by the Hebrew text popped up on the screen. She started to scroll through the document.

Useless.

The whole file was in Hebrew and since she did not understand Hebrew there was no point in trying to understand what the content of the record was about.

She opened another file and after cracking the fourfold security lock, she found a document in English. She raised her eyebrows but then pulled them into a concentrated and slightly confused frown.

The document had a watermark she recognized very well. It was an eagle behind a shield with a compass rose on it, the logo of the Central Intelligence Agency. She sat up straighter and moved her face closer to the screen frowning.

_Ok... Mossad is the Israeli CIA, this isn’t weird…The must work together on occasion...stil..._

She scrolled through the document. Black September, Palestine Liberation Organisation, the names of the terrorist killed and the group responsible for it.

Black September.

She’d read about this attack. A group later dubbed the ‘Black September Organisation’ or ‘BSO’ made up of Fatah members of the PLO, a Palestinian militant group, had taken 11 Israeli athletes hostage during the 1972 olympics in Munich. None of the athletes survived the ordeal.

In retribution Kidon, the counter-terrorist unit of Mossad, had set up a covert operation under the name ‘Wrath Of God’. With the authorisation of Golda Meir, the then prime minister of Israel, they had assembled a team of specially selected and trained men on a mission to assassinate every individual directly or indirectly responsible for the Black September attack. The operation was the answer to the bloody massacre and the men trained to carry out the operation were sent to various locations in the world to locate and take out the targets.

A couple of years ago Arya had studied the case extensively at university while writing an essay on reprisal. This particular case had interested her greatly because of the brutality of the attack itself and the ruthless retaliation by the Israeli government. However back then the information clearly did not come directly out of the classified files and so Arya read through the record with full attention, remembering and simultaneously fact-checking as her eyes swept over the data.

‘Wrath of God’ consisted of an elite group of fifteen Kidon members and an 80 member backup team of mainly Mossad and Israel Defense Force operatives that were involved in the assassinations of PLO and Black September responsibles. The document contained a list of targets taken out by the elite group complete with dates, locations and causes of death.

Apart from retaliation, the mission was meant to strike fear and paranoia into the Palestinian militants in order to prevent them from planning such an attack ever again. Therefore it was important that the assassinations were carried out not just as a simple shooting but in rather shocking and gruesome ways. Crucial in this operation however too, was the idea of plausible deniability by Israel but Arya recalled one of the covert teams being revealed after they had unsuccessfully tried to take out one of the most prominent targets of the BSO;

In their attempt to kill Ali Hassan Salameh, Chief of operations for Black September and one of Mossad's primary targets, they instead killed Ahmed Bouchikhi, a Moroccan waiter and brother of the renowned musician Chico Bouchikhi in Lillehammer Norway. The whole operation ended in the arrest of six of the fifteen Mossad agents and caused a major blow to the reputation of Mossad and to the secret infrastructure of the Mossad in Europe. It also led to the discovery of their safe houses in Lillehammer. As a result Mossad agents who had been exposed had to be recalled, safe houses abandoned, phone numbers changed, and operational methods modified.

Arya went through the list from the top.

The first successful assassination was that of Wael Zwaiter, PLO organizer and cousin of Yāsir Arafāt. He was shot twelve times in the lobby of his Rome apartment building after returning from dinner in October 1972.

Second on the list was Mahmoud Hamshari, the PLO representative in Paris, killed with a remote detonated explosive in his phone in December 1972.

On January 24, 1973, Hussein Al Bashir, the Farah representative in Nicosia, Cyprus was killed by bomb under his bed. There was a note in the report that Al Bashir might have been somehow related to the KGB too.

Basil al-Kubaisi got gunned down in Paris on April 6th 1973.

Hussein Abad al-Chir, Zaid Muchassi, and Mohammed Boudia were all killed during the next few months.

Muhammad Youssef al-Najjar (Operations leader in Black September), Kamal Adwan (a Chief of Operations in the PLO) and Kamal Nasser (PLO Executive Committee member and spokesman) all got killed during a spectacular operation in Beirut in the spring of 1973 in which two Lebanese police officers, an Italian citizen and Al-Najjar’s wife also became casualties. During this operation paratroopers raided a six-story building that served as the headquarters of the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine. The paratroopers met strong resistance and lost two soldiers, but managed to destroy the building killing around 100 PLO and PFLP members during the attacks.

On April 11th that same year Zaiad Muchasi, the replacement for Hussein Al Bashir in Cyprus, got killed in Athens by a bomb in his hotel room.

Mohammad Boudia died by a pressure-activated bomb in his car in Paris. He was the Algerian-born director of operations for Black September. The assassination took place on June 28, 1973.

On January 22, 1979, Mossad managed to locate and kill Salameh in Beirut after all with a remote-controlled car bomb in an attack that also killed four of his bodyguards and four civilians and injured 18 others.  

Arya scrolled down to where the list went on.

Ali Salem Ahmed and Ibrahim Abdul Aziz both Palestinian. Cyprus, December 15, 1979, shot with silenced weapons at point-blank range. Nazeyh Mayer, a leading figure in the PLO's Rome office, shot dead outside his home. June 17, 1982. Kamal Husain, deputy director of the PLO office in Rome, car bomb. June 17, 1982. Fadl Dani, deputy director of the PLO office in Paris, car bomb. July 23, 1982. Mamoun Meraish, PLO official, shot in car from motorcycle. Athens. August 21, 1983. Khaled Ahmed Nazal, Secretary-General of the PLO's DFLP faction, headshot, Athens. June 10, 1986. Munzer Abu Ghazala, senior PLO official and member of the Palestinian National Council, car bomb, Athens. October 21, 1986. Abu Al Hassan Qasim and Hamdi Adwan, car bomb. Limassol. February 14, 1988.

But then the record took an unexpected course. It was believed that Operation ‘Wrath of God’ continued over 20 years, more dates and deaths were added, however the next names on the list were targets taken out by the IDF, the Israeli Defence Force. The actions went under the term focussed foiling, a way to prevent planned terrorist attacks by taking out persons accused of planning or carrying out assaults. Between the names of alleged bomb makers, Hezbollah and Hamas commanders, militants and drone builders however, there were a couple of targets that drew Arya’s attention.

She bent forward completely focussed on the file on her computer screen, frowned and then shock and unbelief took over het features.

On the list were targets on the Israeli side and even in the US, Israeli officers and politicians and US military base camps. Arya pushed back frowning and shook her head, then leaned forward again to check if what she had just read was really what it said. She double checked the info. After checking the data three times she had to conclude that she was not mistaken. The file showed Mossad attacks on Israeli and US targets.

_What the fuck!?_

She checked the date on one of the assaults which she thought she recognized. It was an attack that had been in the papers last year and had been all over the news; Palestinian rebels attacked a hospital in Jordan killing dozens of innocent civilians amongst which many elderly people and children. It had been the onset of a series of requitals in the form of attacks on depots and other buildings of Palestinian groups.

_But...this means...oh my god...Mossad?_

Her eyes flashed over the list of alleged terrorist attacks; A poisoned diplomat on US soil, attacked US military squads in Jordan, a kidnapping of a group of medical volunteers in Afghanistan, an Anthrax letter delivered at the consulate in Ankara, Turkey and a bombing of a mosque after the Friday prayer in Syria.

_No...that’s impossible...They couldn’t have...they wouldn’t...Why?_

The term ‘Otzma’ appeared several times in the file. Arya had never heard the name before but it looked like they were a force connected to all sorts of attacks. This were not attacks by the BSO or the PLO. They were planned attacks on groups fighting together with the US or Israel, attacks on neutral parties and even direct assaults on Israeli and US forces.

Arya blinked her eyes in disbelief. She was sure she had misread or misunderstood the information she was staring at. If this was true then Israel and the US were working together planning attacks on their own people blaming it on militant organisations and all with the direct knowledge and maybe even cooperation of the CIA.

Arya leaned back dropping her head in her neck.

_Jesus._

Her mind was desperately searching for logical explanations. Could it be Faye wanted her to find this information? Had she perchance placed the file within her reach with the intention for her to find it? But to what purpose?

Arya turned back to the file. A spreadsheet showed large sums of money that were reserved for weapons meant for Kurdish militants fighting at the border of Turkey. Al-Qaeda was on the list and to her shock also Hamas, which as it looked used the money to support their victory over Fatah.

She leaned back into the screen and studied the information again. In fact she was looking for a sign that the file she was scrutinizing was authentic. Peering at the screen she tried to weigh and link all the information in her already chaotic mind.

The cold voice coming from behind her made the hacker-turned undercover agent jump with a start, almost knocking over the laptop.

“Well, well”

The words had a strict school teacher-like tone to them.

Arya whirled around, instinctively going for the knife she forgot she hadn’t strapped to her leg.

Faye scoffed and held up the dagger she had taken from under the pillow.

“I didn’t think you had it in you.”

In a matter of seconds all Arya’s senses were on a hair trigger. She stared at the tiny pale woman who was standing in her room holding her weapon in a rather careless fashion. Faye  obviously knew that the girl across from her wasn’t armed because she held the blade casually while trying to look at the screen of Arya’s computer.

“Name three new things you have learned, script kiddy.”

Arya’s heart was pounding in her chest. She looked at the blade and then at the gaunt waif-like woman’s face, trying to swap her aghastness for irritation as she spoke.

“What the fuck Faye?”

“Yeah I was going to say the same... Arya.” she now also produced the other knife in her left hand.

“Do you feel much safer sleeping with these under your pillow?” her English accented voice almost sounded bored.

“What the fuck do you want?” Arya spat at the woman keeping a close watch on both knives and her senior’s eyes, ready to dodge or fight if the older hacker would decide to attack. That seemed not what Faye had in mind. Instead she slipped past Arya moving both shivs into one hand and sat down behind the laptop.

Faye’s eyes were locked to the screen but Arya didn’t make the mistake of thinking that her senior sister wasn’t simultaneously keeping a close eye on her every move. As Faye’s eyes shot over the data Arya could almost see the words being guided from the screen through her eyes, being processed in her brain, from where out corresponding impulses signaled her facial muscles to react.

To Arya, Faye’s monitor-lit countenance was like a canvas for her ability to read emotions. An amazing display of anger, hate, and contempt as well as pride and a strange type of satisfaction, easy to read from a slow lopsided grin, appeared on her face.

It was almost as if these couple of seconds which went by were stretched to ten times their normal length to allow Arya the time to notice and observe every micro expression on the woman's visage.

_Wow, must still be the effect of the hashish, this is…_

_Wow..._

But the words that came out of Faye’s mouth made her snap out of her state of wonder and roughly smacked her back into reality.

“This is very good work…” Faye spoke with her face turned towards the screen but her eyes peering at Arya.

“... _Agent Stark_.”

The realization that Faye used her name and title hit her at the same moment her instincts had signaled her brain to activate her to react. She leapt forward to grab a hold of the knives the older woman was holding in her left hand but Faye had read her.

In one swift move the subversive jumped up, spun around while twisting the knives out of Arya’s reach and kicked her in the chest making the girl stumble and fall to the floor. Faye was upon her trying to push her back down to the wooden boards while CIA operative Arya Stark fought to push the hacking terrorist off of her.

In their struggle Arya managed to grab Faye’s right wrist and smacked her hand against the side of the bed making her release the shiv, which went spinning off in the direction of the door.

The fact Faye was handling the other blade with her left hand however didn’t seem to matter. With striking ease the skinny woman made a couple of moves which Arya had not anticipated and before she could react they were laying on the floor, Faye pushing the sharp edge of the blade against the agent’s carotid with her left hand.

It was Arya now who could not keep first the surprise and then the exasperation off her face.

_Damn it, I should have known he taught her._

“He used to strike my hand with a switch until I had equal dexterity in both.”

In their clash they had ended up on the floor with Faye holding the shiv to Arya’s throat from behind. Therefore Arya was not able to see her attackers face as she spoke but from the woman’s voice Arya’s hypersensitive senses picked up on the emotion;

_Pride._

_This is not pride for her ability...she’s proud because Jaqen taught her._

In her strange post-ritual haze she had recognized on not only the emotion but also the distinction in _reason_ behind the woman’s words in her tone.

Right at this moment she could not decide if she should see her newfound _(temporary?)_ ability as a blessing or a distraction. The power to perceive such detail in her line of work was the most valuable asset she could possibly wish for, but right now it was distracting her from the fact that the person the voice belonged to was threatening to slit her throat.

“What do you think about your employer now?” Faye hissed.

“Are you still proud to be on _the good side_?”

Arya listened for emotion in her attacker’s voice.

Still hate, anger and disdain but this time the derision was aimed at her. Clenching her jaw Arya had to admit that Faye’s words did land where she had intended to strike the agent.

_I have to find out if she planned for me to find this file. Maybe I can somehow get her to slip up and use this hash-thing to find out if she’s telling the truth._

“Did you know about this?” Arya simply asked, she actually really wanted to know the answer to the question, she wanted to know if Faye had known about all this before she herself had found out. In the answer she hoped to pick up on the verity in her words but the bluntness of Faye’s answer caught her off guard.

“Yes, of course I knew.”

_Oh...ok that was a bit too easy._

“I didn’t just find out from that little piece of info you just hacked though. We have informants, I am sure you are not surprised. The file you have just opened, _is_ however what I needed to obtain in order to expose the rotten minds behind this sick system.”

It was easy for Arya to hear that the woman was speaking the truth and with full conviction and determination at that. She continued.

“Hacking CIA material is easier when you are able to use the mind of an insider, though snitches are hard to come by in your department, especially if you don’t have enough money to buy their loyalty.”

Arya’s breath caught in her throat when she realized what she had unknowingly done. Using her logic of moving around in the CIA system combined with her hacking skills, she had given access to a database that had been difficult for the master hacker to infiltrate. Faye had used her, _they_ had used her to gain access to the CIA files.

Half sedated by the realization, she felt a rage cook up in her core. If Faye had planned this, it could not have been without Jaqen’s sanctioning. The realization made her feel like a punch in the gut. It almost paralyzed her but then the fury from inside took over.

Without actively taking the decision she synchronously shoved Faye’s hand with the blade away from her and with all her strength elbowed the skinny woman in the side. The unexpected move caused the hacker to curl up in an attempt to protect her body. Using Faye’s shoulder as leverage Arya managed to kick herself away, roll over to the side of the bed and slide her hand into the gap in the mattress.

Behind her she heard Faye crawl to her feet. Arya’s fingers curled around the grip of her Ruger LC9, she yanked the weapon backwards still laying on the floor rolling over facing the woman, who was now standing, and pointed the barrel at her chest.

Faye in turn did not look very impressed. Arya did not have to use many skills to pick up the meaning of the waif’s words and her expression.

“What did they tell you, sister? she spat.

“What terrible crimes did we commit on your prime time news?”

“Did we hide in schools using school kids as our human shield? Did they tell you we aim for busy markets in order to increase the amount of civilian casualties? Do we cut people’s heads off and send the footage to the government demanding you release our fallen brothers. Or are we the kind that recruit children to fight our wars?” Her eyes were cold as ice but also spat fire when she spoke.

“ _Terrorist.”_ She put her hands in her side seemingly undisturbed by the fact she was held at gunpoint.

“Such a convenient term for someone who opposes your sick design of how the world should look.”

“And how do you feel about it all now?” Faye continued.

“After living under a roof with us. Are we the monsters you expected us to be, does it match the description in your files special agent Stark?”

The files Arya had read had put Jaqen away as one of the most dangerous terrorists alive, his cell would not stop at anything to achieve their aims. The group would use all necessary violence in order to reach their goals and their aim was to overthrow the government, at the time it had all seemed very plausible.

Arya was struggling to focus on the words, weigh their truth and process what all of it meant for her and her position while trying to keep her own emotions in check.

Not long ago she had had an intensive course from Dr. Paul Ekman who had been Thomas Weber’s mentor for six years but Faye had lived with Jaqen as her mentor for far longer. She was as adept in manipulation as her mentor had been able to convey to his young apprentice. The older woman used the skill to her advantage.

“All of us knew who you were when our brother dragged you in, drugged and cut up. All this time we knew of your reason to be with us. While you happily cooked our dinner and made  coffee for a group of _terrorists_.”

She glared down at the agent who pointed a gun at her from her position on the floor and added in a derogatory tone.

“You are an amateur, _operative Stark_.”

Faye aimed her insults at different places of her opponent’s personality to create the biggest impact. The technique worked. The last remark was clearly directed at her pride and trust and hit her like a well-landed punch.

All at once Arya felt like a failure. Used and betrayed by everyone around her. Her employer and mentor Mr. Luwin, Javier, Gendry, the rest of her team and...Jaqen. The shock of the cognizance made her lose her focus just long enough to make her slip into a moment of unguarded distraction.

This is was the manipulative subversive had waited for. In one fast agile move, she used the opportunity to leap towards Arya and kick the gun out of her hand. The Ruger landed on the stone floor with both women rushing after it to grab it but Faye, who was already on her feet, was faster. She snatched up the weapon and pointed it at Arya.

Not breaking eye contact Faye moved behind the laptop again and with her left hand, she was still pointing the gun at Arya with her right, punched in a couple of commands. With the gun she directed at the wall at the back of the room.

“Get up and get against that wall.”

_This is it, she has the info she needed. It’s over. Dammit, I can’t believe this shit!_

The lanky woman herself moved to the door, her cold eyes betraying the scorn that she felt while she pointed the firearm in her hand at her opponent. Even if Arya had been able to slow down time she would not have stood a chance putting up any resistance. So instead of trying to escape or fight she just observed the emotion on her sister’s face.

This time it might have been the proximity to death and the hormones it released into the agent’s system that made her see her attacker’s mental state displayed on her countenance as if it were a series of pictures. Determination and doubt alternated and signs of fear, anger, disdain, hurt flashed across her face. The emotion she recognized just before the words, totally took her by surprise. Arya had almost accepted her fate when the face of the woman holding the weapon flashed...

_Submission._

Faye lowered the weapon and looked at her with revulsion.

“You will never be one of us Agent Stark.” She spoke in a cold voice, then put the gun on the floor and left the room without closing the door behind her.

It took a couple of moments for Arya to process and react but when her muscles obeyed the signals from her mind, she staggered towards the black weapon near the door and picked it up. The gun was unlocked and ready to fire.

Where she had expected her sister to kill her in cold blood, something inside her had stopped  her.

Arya hesitated to take action. Faye had let her go, walked away from her knowing who she was. Left her in the room and turned her back knowing she was armed, indicating she trusted Arya not to use the weapon she had just vouchsafed her. A deliberate action.

The agent slumped to the floor, gun in hand. She had not been uncovered. They had always known who she was, all of them. For the first time in her career she had walked into the trap she had set herself. Not only had she failed but she had given the subversives access to information that would jeopardize the mission her organisation had sent her on. An organisation, she had just found out, was not the one she thought it was at all.

She swallowed back the bile and forced back the tears. All she had believed in had turned out to be a lie. Unsure of what to believe anymore she pulled her knees towards her and rested her tired head on them. Hugging her knees with the Ruger still held in her hand she sat there, deeply confused and feeling utterly distraught.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok we survived that part of the story hehe...well done.  
> Thanks for reading by the way, I really appreciate that there are a couple of loyal readers that have stuck with the story up to now, hope you will keep with me. I also saw there are also still new people who started reading that makes me really happy too!
> 
> Please let me know what you think about this chapter so I can think about and maybe use your feedback.
> 
> The next chapter is half done so I hope to post that soon too!


	18. Vallar Morghulis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter with a couple of pieces of Arya's puzzle that she so desperately needs in order to stay sane.

His phone rang a couple of times before he rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand and picked answered.

“...Waters.”

“Ok... that’s... great, I’m on my way.” 

He put the phone down and rubbed his hands over his face a couple of times before getting up. 

In his hurry to get going he bumped into the low glass table in front of the couch tipping over his half finished Corona. The drink gushed out of the bottle and soaked a couple of magazines. He couldn’t be bothered to properly clean the mess. Instead he picked up a dirty t-shirt from the couch and draped it into the foamy mess, most of which had already got absorbed by the empty pizza box laying on the table. 

The sunlight that managed to shine in through some chinks in the dark curtains betrayed the fact that it was already midday. Particles of dust that was set in motion by his sudden movement swirled around in the rays shining onto the dark blue carpet. The mini-suite resembled Gendry’s apartment at times; half empty containers of take out food, clothes, papers, files, magazines and beer bottles were scattered around the room. 

He had told the reception that his room did not need cleaning, he’d rather not have anyone coming into the room where he kept his computer and did his research. But every day he grew more tired of staying in the hotel and longed to be back in the clutter of his own apartment. 

Today was his day off but he didn’t hesitate even for a moment to put on some half decent clothes and leave his chaotic hotel room for the bureau. The throbbing in his head reminded him of the couple of beers he had in a bar last night and come to think of it, maybe a couple of shots of tequila too. Luz, the girl that came up to him had been appealing enough, but just when she thought he’d take her back to his place, a strong feeling of guilt had taken over so to Luz’s disappointment the ruggedly handsome American excused himself and left on his own. 

Gendry was two steps into the hallway when he dashed back inside to grab and put on his sunglasses as his eyes couldn’t quite handle the light outside of his man-cave. 

All in all it still only took him five minutes from having his little siesta on the couch in his dusky hotel room, to stepping out of the air conditioned lobby and into the Mexican midday sun where he ran into the wall of heat outside. He immediately remembered why he had decided to take a nap in the first place. It was only May but already searing hot.

The white rented Nissan March was parked around the corner of the small hotel and had been in the full sun since it had come up over the building across the street. Off duty Agent Waters had to open all four doors in order to get the worst heat out before he could get into the vehicle and turn on the AC.

The first two days he had had some trouble finding the way but he drove the route to his temporary office on auto-pilot by now. He flashed his badge at the security in front of the building, which seemed a bit redundant since it was a small office and the guards knew his face, but he never skipped the formality. 

Driving up to the building he already spotted Javier, who was leaning against the wall next to the entrance smoking a cigarette. 

“Good morning sunshine.” The Chilean born head of the National Counterterrorism Center of Mexico grinned at him when he saw his somewhat dead-beat colleague step out of the car.

“Looks like you were about to enjoy your day off today.” 

Gendry irritably looked up at his colleague from behind his dark sunglasses. 

“The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Care to blow my breathalyzer.” Javier asked with a cheeky wink.

“Ulg, spare me your jokes man, I’m not in the mood.” 

“Ok ok cabron, your choice... You don’t know what you’re missing though.” Javier japed  dropping his cigarette bud onto the ground putting it out with his foot.

“Why the long face man?” He asked his colleague in his accented voice while turning and pushing through the doors of the bureau. 

“I called you cause we found the place, will you cheer up? you are ruining my good mood.”

Though Gendry was not in the best mood for Javier Martell’s typical jokes, he did cheer up by his remark when he suddenly remembered why had had even left his cool accommodation on a day like this.

“Right, tell me all about it.”

“Wait, I know just what you need.” he said with a somewhat saucy grin.

Javier motioned him to wait in the hallway while he stuck his head around the corner and talked in Spanish to the Mexican lady in the office.

“Silviiiita… te ves lindísima hoy!”

He heard the woman giggle and respond: “Eso dices todos los días.”

“Me da dos cafés, por favor?”

“Sí, por supueeeeesto.” she almost sounded like a giddy young girl the way she stretched the word and Agent Waters could almost hear the blush in Silvia’s voice.

Javier gave the woman an exaggerated wink, then walked back to his colleague, put a hand on his shoulder and lead him into the main office. 

Gendry just shook his head. He did not know any Sylvia but Javier flirted with everyone and anyone so he was not surprised he told little ‘Silvita’ she looked beautiful today. 

“Ven aquí!” Javier said sitting down on a chair behind a computer, drawing up a chair next to him and punched in his password to unlock the computer.

Gendry sat down and looked over the screen which displayed the map of Mexico.

“The guys have looked up all the hotels in the area that are no longer in use. Arya mentioned a village, which I take is as abandoned as the hotel where they’ve taken her.”

There was a marker on the Ramada hotel Arya had checked out of in the Mexico City and the route to Americana Club Social where she had last been in contact with her team. 

“The Chevy she describes has Tlaxcala license plates and this hotel can’t be too far from Mexico City if this Syrio Forel-lookalike has driven her to the Ramada.”

“Yeah...” Gendry followed the marked routes between the indicated places on the monitor.

“So the most logical place they could possibly be…” 

“Aquí están sus cafés, señoreeeeees!” The cheerful high-pitched voice of the to Gendry unknown Silvia came from behind them.

He turned around.

‘Silvita’ was about four times the size he expected her to be, much older and seemingly not afraid to show some skin. The enormous Mexican woman only just fit through the door holding a tray with two cups of coffee and a plate of churros generously topped with powdered sugar. She was wearing a bright colored dress that could not be called anything but too tight for her overly voluptuous body, making her bulge out of every part of the garment that didn’t manage to keep it all in place.

It took him a couple of seconds to respond.

“Eh... gracias... señorita.” Gendry stammered.

“Oh!” Silvia squealed. “You.are.so.cuuuute!”

She wobbled over to the pair and placed the tray on the table. Her hips pushing their chairs to the side as she did so.

“Jus’ call me if there is aaaaanytin’ you need!” 

“Gracias flaquita.” Javi amiably thanked the woman with a broad smile.

When the lady had left the office, Gendry turned to Javier. The look on his face was that of such surprise that his eyebrows almost touched his hairline. 

“What?” 

“....Nothing.” 

Javier dragged over the map, zoomed in and placed the pointer on a small town just across the border of Tlaxcala to Puebla, about an hour from San Benito where the green Chevrolet had been reported stolen.

“As I was saying, the most logical place would be here.” 

Gendry stared at the few dots indicating there were a handful of buildings on the site that was otherwise surrounded by dry desert land with some shrubs.

“Why the hell would anyone build a hotel there? There’s  _ nothing _ out there…” 

“Well, there used to be mines there, mainly gold and some silver. People had set up a small town. The name of it is not even on the map but there was a hotel too.”

He zoomed in on a building at the edge of the village.

“Here, El Dorado.”

“The miners were forced to give up their earnings to gangs and eventually fled the town. It was either that or be hung from a flagpole like a piece of beef jerky drying in the sun.”

Gendry took the mouse and followed the route from the center to the abandoned town.

“It’s less than a 3 hour drive.” The tone in his voice indicated what Javier already knew his colleague would suggest; jumping into his car and driving there right away.

Agent Waters turned to Javier expectantly.

“There is no indication she is in trouble.” he said sternly but as he said it, he realized this would never be enough to stave off the feeling he knew was rising in the man who cared more about their colleague than was professionally required.

“Well, she doesn’t really have any way to let us know how she is doing right now, so we really wouldn’t know, would we?” Gendry replied, calmly deflecting his partner’s attempt to discourage him.

He slowly started to connect his phone to the office computer with a cable.

“Waters, how about we wait for a couple of days more, if she still hasn’t reported back by then we can go have a look.”

He realized there was little chance he was going to talk Gendry out of this, the guy wasn’t even acting irrational. He just collectedly prepared what he needed to drive to the location Martell had called him over to show him. 

“It’s been over 10 days already. She doesn’t have any way to contact us.”

“Cabron, give the girl some credit will you? She is one of the best, she has let us know that she is ok and asked us to proceed with the mission. We know she probably has her Ruger because she took all the things from her hotel room. I’m pretty sure she has a plan, let’s not mess it up.”

“I’m not going there to mess up her plan.” 

The map started downloading onto his phone and Gendry used the time to drink the coffee and eat one of the curros. Javier observed his colleague a bit dumbfoundedly. It amazed him that the younger man was hungover and obviously had slept too little but still reacted in such a level-headed way. Almost like he wasn’t himself. 

“I’m not going to be able to talk you out of this am I?” he finally asked.

“No.” Waters answered without looking directly at him while brushing some confectioner’s sugar from his beard.

The file had finished downloading and Gendry disconnected the cable. 

“Are you coming with me or am I going there alone?”

“You are not even on call.” Javier started to run out of tricks to convince his partner and he was not inclined to try and stop him physically.

“Luwin will be pissed!” a final try.

“Luwin is not here.”

Gendry gave him a smirk and drank the last bit of his coffee. He turned towards the door and started striding towards it greeting his colleague as he put his hand on the handle.

“Javi.” he said and made a gesture that indicated he was leaving.

“Wait, Cabron. Ok, I’m coming with you.”    
  


\---

 

Arya didn’t know how long she had been sitting huddled on the floor of her ‘own’ room holding her ‘own’ gun that had just been pointed at her by the sister who had know her identity all along. The woman had walked away from the CIA agent, leaving her behind with a loaded gun. Left her behind completely befuddled and feeling like the safe magic carpet of the CIA had been pulled out from under her. An armed and exposed undercover agent in a house full of terrorists. 

With no reference point to reality, she had gotten lost in her thoughts which felt like quicksand sucking her down into a swamp of dejection.

When she finally looked up, after what seemed like hours, her master was standing in the door frame still wearing his robe. She hadn’t heard him coming but the smell of the characteristic mix of spices and sandalwood she now knew from the ritual betrayed his presence.

“You knew all along.” she whispered looking up at him.

“Yes.” he regarded the agent holding the gun with not the slightest bit of alarm.

“A man was always aware who you were, Arya Stark.”

The young woman stumbled to her feet and pointed the gun at her master taking a couple of steps back.

“You used me!”

Jaqen casually leaned against the doorframe and let his almond shaped eyes wander from her face to the gun she was pointing at him.

“A girl has worked under false pretenses as well, why is this right for you and wrong for me?”

It was true. Arya’s reasons to be with the group were entirely aimed at bringing them down.

“You are an assassin, a terrorist…”

“Do you even know what that means lovely girl?” his tone betrayed his vexation.

He pushed off the wooden frame and took a menacing step in her direction, pulling the door shut behind him. Arya immediately reacted by tightening her double handed grip on the gun.

“Don’t move.” 

“Or what?”

He didn’t look at the weapon but straight into her eyes as he took another step.

Arya clenched her jaw trying to suppress the emotions that pulled her apart. The anger she felt at his betrayal strangely mixed with the hurt she felt at that same betrayal. Hurt because she knew she had gotten too close, had allowed herself to be hurt by the betrayal of her target. She realized who she had in front of her but after all that she had been through she abandoned all deference. 

“Don’t fucking move!” the agent spat through clenched teeth aiming the weapon at Jaqen’s chest.

The assassin halted in the middle of the room and looked her in the eye.

“A girl has spent too much time with her coarse brother.” he japed as his lips twitched to suppress a smile.

Arya narrowed her eyes and glared at him. 

_ How the hell can he possibly be joking now! I will shoot you right in the smug face, I swear it! _

His face changed back to serious.

“Put the gun down.” he commanded as he took another step.

“Back the fuck off!”

He was only two large steps away from her but he did as she told him and stopped moving in her direction. 

“Is a girl certain she wants to do this?”

She didn’t answer him. Instead she asked the question she had intended to confront him with when she made the irrational decision of pointing a firearm at the master assassin.

“I need to know something.” 

His eyes indicated he was listening, he also knew exactly what she was going to ask.

“What happened between us…” she took a breath and then asked him the question she was not sure she wanted to hear the answer to.

“...look me in the face and tell me that was not real.”

He averted his eyes and stared over het shoulder at the blank wall behind her as he spoke.  

“A man and a girl alike fight for what they believe in. What we believe however is subjective. More subjective than a girl possibly could have known. Without complete information it is unreasonable to form an objective opinion and take action accordingly. Knowledge is power, sweet girl”

That she hadn’t been in the possession of complete information to form a sound judgement  was an understatement. 

“A man is aware of how adept a girl is in reading faces, he has seen the tutoring of his old mentor back in her conduct.” he gave a small but wistful smile remembering the old man with whom he had spent part of his youth. 

Then turned his head back to face Arya, allowing her to observe him as he spoke. 

“A man has lived this way for as long as he allows himself to remember. He has been in countless deadly situations and has faced many lethal individuals over time lovely girl, but you are the most dangerous a man has met.”

The remark took her by surprise as much as she was aware what he meant by it. However much she’d like to deny it, this counted for her in equal measure as it did for the man across from her. 

“Our mentor taught you well. A girl has managed to break something inside of a man he thought to be indestructible.”

He blinked and for a moment his eyes were aimed at the floor. He blinked again and he looked back into her soul.

“You are a man’s weakness, Arya Stark, as a man is yours.”

Tears stung in her eyes. His words rang true but she was torn between the feelings she had for him and her conscious that warned her for his manipulation, for the fact that he had already betrayed her and had used her all this time. 

“Sweet girl, put the gun down.” 

His attempt at a more civilized talk had the opposite effect. She took his proposal as a maneuver to talk her out of her protection and gripped the weapon even tighter. 

The change in his bearing should have signaled her the Jaqen was running out of patience but the agent was too out of sorts to notice the change. 

She had also forgotten how fast he was.

Without warning he stepped forward, grabbed the barrel of the gun and pointed it away from him. Concurrently, his other hand grabbed the top of the gun that was now pointed towards the wall and pushed it down forcing her to release the weapon. A stupid beginners mistake on her side. She had realized it as soon as he had stepped into her, the move was one of the first ones Dean had taught his trainee in order to disarm an assailant. 

Instead of pointing the gun back at her Jaqen had already taken out the magazine and thrown it in the opposite corner of where he slid the gun, showing her Arya he had no intention of shooting her. 

She tried to run but he caught her. He grabbed her and held her tight until she stopped kicking and cursing but when he carefully released her she tried to smack him in the face and run off again. 

“Let go of me, you bastard! Let go. You are hurting me! Stop it, motherf...”

He grabbed her arm and forced her a couple of steps back, roughly pushed her onto the bed and grabbed her face with his free hand clamping it over her mouth silencing her and cutting the string of profanities she fiercely spat at him. The span of his huge hand covered half of her face and he easily held her whole head in place by her cheekbones while with his other hand he tried to stop her from punching him.

“A girl says nothing” he hissed, “A girl keeps her mouth closed until a man has told her all she needs to know. Only then may she speak. Yes?”

She stopped struggling and tried to face away from him but the hand he held over her mouth clamped tighter and twisted her head back to make her look him in the eye. 

“Look at me.” 

Arya breathed heavily through her nose. She slowly opened her eyes which she had shut to be able to think and looked up into the assassin’s cool blue eyes which reflected imperativeness  as he spoke to her.

“A girl knows how to look for the truth. That is all she needs to do now.” 

He looked at her intently and asked for cooperation from her side with his demeanor. Arya swallowed and paused but then he felt her nodding her head into the hand he had clamped over her mouth. 

“The word  _ Assassin _ comes from the Persian word  _ Hashashin _ .”

When he released her she gasped for air and then angrily started biting her lip in an effort not to break her promise of silence.

He sat down on the edge of the bed facing her.

“A man of twenty, his 18 year old wife and their nearly 2 year old daughter were living in a simple house on the West Bank in Palestine. They were not rich and life was tough but they were happy.” 

Arya kept biting her lip. She was a boiling ball of anger ready to explode again but the curiosity of what the assassin was about to unveil beat the rage inside and kept her quiet. It led the master to continue.

“One day the man came back from herding their sheep and found his daughter dead in her crib. His wife raped and murdered.” 

Arya had stopped biting her lip and her bewildered eyes flashed over Jaqen’s face. 

For the first time she saw the true human side of him. Behind the stoic mask of carefully composed tranquility, behind the faltering facelessness she saw pain and suffering, hurt and anger. It cost him effort to keep facing her. 

“She was 4 months pregnant.”

A chill ran down the young woman’s spine and she felt the hair on her entire body stand up. 

_ The girl in the picture… _

It took a moment before he spoke again and she saw the muscles in his jaw clench. It gave her time to process his words. 

“War had come to their part of the world and not soon after, his parental house was bombed killing his Palestinian father and German-Jewish mother, two sisters and younger brother. In one fatal explosion everyone he once loved was faded off the face of the earth.”

“Nearly driven insane with revenge the man moved to Lebanon to join a group that swore to make the murderers of his loved ones pay.” 

“It was them who taught him to fight. A man learned and many people responsible died.” 

He paused and read Arya’s demeanor to gauge her acceptation. With her full attention on his words she forgot to guard her face which clearly reflected dejection, shock, sympathy and comprehension. He continued.

“One day the man eliminated a subject in his mansion. When he was about to leave he noticed there was a child being held in the basement. The young girl was in a bad state, he could not leave her so he took her with him and swore to protect her. 

The man and his sister moved to Turkey where they found entrance to a Muslim resistance organisation.”

Arya listened mutely.

“The man was noticed by the high Rafique, a Grand Master, who introduced him to another part of the underground organisation with far links to the cult of Hassan-i Sabbah, a group  known as the Nizari Ismalis. 

In the Middle Ages Hassan-i Sabbah, also known as the the Old Man of the Mountain, was the leader of a group of Hashashin meaning ‘people of the esoteric teachings’ or Ta’limiyyah ‘people of the secret teachings.’ They were relentless assassins who used psychological warfare, intimidation and assassination to strike fear into kings, Sultans and other opponents who they lead into a constant state of paranoia by threat of public assassination.”

“Nothing is true, all is permitted, that was the secretum of the Hashashin.” 

“The man was taken in and trained as a Lasiqe or Fida’i, a term a man is sure you are familiar with.” 

He was directing his words at Agent Stark now, taking into account her position at the CIA and the background he knew she had on subjects concerning terrorism. Nonetheless he decided to elaborate to make sure his words were understood. He had regained his equilibrium again and spoke to her in his distinctively calm accented voice.

“With every step on his path the man shed more and more of his identity, of his hopes and dreams, all he had ever loved, and then hated and of his reasons. Fida’in are self-sacrificing agents but the master of the lodge had different plans with this Fida’i.” 

“A man himself was trained to be a Rafiqe, and then was inaugurated as a Chief Da’i with a branch of his own. The rites of the original cult are still followed, a girl has taken part in one.”

Arya stared at him in disbelief, her mouth slightly agape, but she did not interrupt. She could not if she wanted to, all she could do was stare and listen to the assassin telling her what she had been trying to figure out all this time. Slowly, one by one, the pieces started to fall into place. 

“This lodge is a splinter cell of Ta’limiyyah more adept in the secret teachings of the Hashashin. Freely translated the Meçhul Ta’limiyyah is the Lodge of the ‘Faceless Men’.”

“The order does not kill out of personal gain, hate or revenge. Attacks are carefully planned to take out opponents with minimal damage to innocents. Although in the old ways the preferred weapon of the Hashashin is the dagger, if possibility allows it, the Faceless Men utilize poison to cater for a cleaner transition and a more manageable funeral for the ones who stay behind.”

“Faceless Men honor the only God whose existence can not be denied.”

It took a while for Arya to process the information. She remembered the recording she had seen on the assassin’s computer and recalled his answer to a question she had asked him about their faith. Her mouth felt dry when she tried to speak.

“You said you worshiped no-one.” 

“ _Valar Morghulis_ , all men must die. Every religion speaks of it with different names; Hades and Persephone in Greek mythology, Azrael for the Islamists, Osiris in ancient Egypt, Odin, The Hindu god Yama and dozens more, yet _no one_ calls him by his true name.” 

“ _ Death, _ has many faces, lovely girl. We do not idolize anyone, we serve _ no one _ , for all men must serve as long as they are not summoned by the Many Faced God.” 

_ A cult of assassins who worship Death... _

The facts whirling around in her head made her dizzy. Half sedated by the immense amount of information she had to process she stared into the distance trying to organize the info in her head. Rejection of his words was not even on her mind anymore, her requisite guard forgotten. Her subconscious had accepted his story in spite of her conscious logic which would struggle with it some more later.

His voice was calm, he too had observed acceptance wash over the young woman.

“A girl has found her way to answers about our targets, a man takes it his reasons are clear.”

His reasons were clear, his reasons to be who he was, or rather who he was not. His reasons for his denomination, his determination to stop the people who had the power to give rise to wars. The background of the master assassin’s story placed behind the data she had uncovered about the motives of his prosecutors visualized in her head made the whole picture clearer. Yes, this information answered most of her questions but her mind had got stuck on another thought. One that made her gut clench and her heart ache. It took a long moment for her to push the lump in her throat down far enough to speak.

“What was her name?” she whispered.

He didn’t have to ask who her question referred to. His bereaved blue eyes wandered across her face and found hers, she could hear the melancholy resonate through in his voice when he spoke.

“Her name was Leanna.” 

Arya saw the assassin controlled his breathing but it was not without effort. In her head she called up the picture of the pregnant girl, much younger than herself, yet unmistakably similar. Holding the hand of a two year old girl. Both murdered long ago. 

Two words left her lips before she could censor herself. If she could have, she might have thought twice about asking, the pain she had seen in her master’s eyes when she had asked about his wife anchored him to being human. If she had had the reticence she would not have ripped at the stitches of his broken heart. If...

“Your daughter?”

Jaqen clenched his jaw, got up from the bed and turned away from Arya. He stood motionlessly with his back towards her for seconds that felt like minutes. When she was almost sure he would not answer her anymore she heard him swallow.

His voice broke when he whispered her name.

“Rhaella.” 

Tears started to sting in Arya’s eyes. It was as if she could physically feel Jaqen’s pain. All the years he had spent trying to forget, to become no-one, free of any bonds that kept him human, anchored him to this life with love and pain. 

Losing her father had been hard for her and since she was not the type to open up to her remaining family members she had stuffed the hurt and grief of his unexpected death away to deal with later. Hearing about the loss of Jaqen’s wife and child not only hit her with an unexpected amount of empathy for the terrorist, it also called up emotions from her past that she had not expected to be confronted with.

As she sat up from her reclined position, a single tear escaped her eye and rolled down to her neck. 

Jaqen turned around and looked at his apprentice. A soft kind of affection smoothed his dismal expression. He weakly flashed her a sad smile of understanding and walked to the bed to sit down on the mattress.

“Now what?” Arya asked weakly, realizing all that she had believed, the foundations of her hopes and wishes, of the choices she had made that had led her to be who she was now, of the trust she had granted the world around her, had just crumbled under her feet.

Jaqen laid his hand on the side of her face and wiped away the salty trace the tear had left on her cheek.

“Now, a girl must rest so she can reflect, think clearly and decide who she  _ truly _ is.”

He gave her a sedative to calm her, something that looked like he made it himself. He carried the liquid in a tiny vial that he carried with him in his robe. She took it without asking questions. 

She was too tired to ask questions anymore.

 

\-----------------------------------------

[ I had a name but they took it from me ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Rdiy9IzATQ) [](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Rdiy9IzATQ)   
I was the man that I wanted to be [](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Rdiy9IzATQ)   
I had a place where I lay my head [](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Rdiy9IzATQ)   
They burnt it to the ground and the sky turned red

[I had a life and a place in the world](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Rdiy9IzATQ)   
[I had a sweet talkin’ wife and a beautiful girl](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Rdiy9IzATQ)   
[I know I’m never gonna see 'em again](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Rdiy9IzATQ)   
[Gonna tear the world up until I have my revenge](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Rdiy9IzATQ)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Click on the lyrics at the end of the chapter to listen to this great song by Lord Huron (thank you Winterlyn)  
> It really sums up how Jaqen felt when he joined his first group of subversives in Lebanon.
> 
> Thank you all for reading and sticking with me all this time! Please leave me a comment to tell me what you think, it means a lot to me!   
> You guys are great!!! <3


	19. Burning heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay...so I've completely f*cked off for a couple of months doing all and what not but I finally found myself the motivation to finish this chapter. Hopefully it will start a new wave of inspiration to keep writing. It would certainly help to hear you guys have forgiven me and are still interested... :S

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I usually re-read the previous chapter if it has been a while since a story I was reading gets posted. But I totally understand that most people don't, so I'll just give a quick recap of chapter 18:
> 
> \- Gendry gets called to the office on his day off by Javier Martell because they have found the location of the abandoned town where Arya is staying. He convinces Javi to go with him on this unauthorized adventure.  
> \- After being called out as a CIA agent by her hacking 'sister', who doesn't shoot her but instead leaves her behind with her own gun, she confronts Jaqen (at gunpoint) with the fact that he has known all along. He confesses and tells her about his background, how he has come to do what he does and why. Arya, too tired to protest, drinks the contents of a vial that the master of poisons offers her along with the words that now she must find out who she truly is...
> 
> -

\--

 

Miles of uninhabited land with dry brown grass, rocks and the occasional agave plant passed by the wheels of the rented Nissan. In the distance, hills with low shrubs as far as the eye could see. 

Gendry was driving a bit faster than was strictly necessary. Javier knew better than to pester him about it, they were in the middle of nowhere and he had his focus on a different subject. He turned the radio down and faced the still somewhat shabby looking dark haired boy.

“How long have you been in love with her?”

Gendry pretended not to understand the question.

“Eh...what are you talking about man?”

Javier rolled his eyes. Why did the boy have to turn the whole thing into a drama.

“Arya. Since when the crush?”

A nervous scoff served as a prelude to more excuses.

“No man, you’ve got it all wrong. Arya’s my colleague, my partner. I look after her, yeah sure I care about her, as a friend. You know, as a colleague, as a friend…”

“Right….Hey, I don’t care, but what we are doing now is way out of line and could get both of us fired, you do understand that.”

“Javi, I didn’t ask you to come, if you don’t want to do this I can go on my own.”

Javier had thought of that before he decided to come along on this crazy and irresponsible trip but he decided that letting Gendry go on his own would present a far greater risk. There was no way he would be able to keep the boy from going, so he thought it better to accompany him instead to prevent him from doing anything stupid. 

Both were silent for a while. Gendry turned the radio up.

After about a minute or two Javi turned the music down again. 

“What’s your plan cabron?”

“Nothing! dude, I just told you, she’s just a friend!” Gendry snapped a bit louder than intended.

Javier had meant to find out what his colleague had in mind upon arriving at the destination but Gendry’s head was clearly occupied with a whole different part of his self proclaimed mission.

The shrewd Chilean just gave the boy, who now also realized his own mistake, a cheeky stare quirking up an eyebrow.

He had indeed been thinking about her. When he let his mind drift off, he often caught himself ending up thinking about ‘just his friend’.

“Listen, I understand.” Javier said to break the awkwardness. 

“She is very smart, witty and really good at her job.”

This remark surprised Gendry. It hit the nail on the head and he had expected something much more vulgar from his colleague. 

He scratched his head.

“Yeah…you are right, she’s smart, funny and good at her job….”

“And those legs…man!

Gendry irritably snapped his head in Javier’s direction.

“Don’t push it Javi.” he said with a glare but then started laughing when he saw his colleagues face.

His slick friend had lured him into yet another one of his traps and this time there was no use in denying. 

Gendry scratched his head again.

“Ok...yeah… I like… I like her.” he admitted after both of them had stopped laughing. 

“It’s driving me crazy that we don’t know if she is well, that we can’t help her when she needs us.” 

Javier put a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“G, you said so yourself, Arya is smart and good at her job. We have seen she is fine and she has told us in her message that we should proceed with our mission according to plan. She has passed the riskiest part already; she has survived the initiation and is with the group. You should have some faith in the girl.”

“I _do_ have faith in her. I don’t know anyone who is better at this job than her.”

“That’s right, so stop worrying. It won’t make a difference anyhow, she’ll be fine.”

Gendry pondered on that, trying to push away all the doom scenarios that tried to shake his conviction that what Javi said was true. He really believed that Arya had everything it took to deal with unforeseen circumstances but he also knew that one miscalculation could mean terrible things. Things that kept him awake at night.

 

They approached Apizaco, the town near to where the green Chevy was stolen. Less than an hour before they would reach the small township where the abandoned El Dorado hotel should be. Less than an hour left to talk sense into the boy.

 

“Hey cabron, promise me you are not going to storm right in when we get to the hotel ok?”

Gendry laughed it off but if he was honest he could see himself doing just that in his mind. Not that he would be so stupid as to really do so but he actually really wanted to do exactly what his colleague warned him not to. 

“Let’s just drive past without stopping first and see if there is any direct sign of life. If there is, we get out of there, if there’s not we can stop further on and inspect the place from a distance for a while before we decide how to proceed.” 

Gendry nodded his approval. His patience had been and would be tested a bit more either way.

 

It was starting to get dark as the pair drove into the deserted little town. 

On either side of the poorly lit road dark crumbled buildings flanked their path. An old sign was creaking as the movement of the car made it sway. A bit further on they had to swerve to avoid hitting a cripple dog in the middle of the road. 

Javier cursed in Spanish under his breath.

“You seem tense Javi.” 

“I told you before, abandoned towns are anything but safe. Apart from our bunch of fucking terrorists, drug cartels own the streets here. And you look too much like a Gringo not to be noticed.”

The pair slowly drove through the streets alert for any signs of activity. According to their navigation, the old El Dorado hotel should be at the far end of the village. And there it was, at the end of the road stood the building. A broad structure which had obviously not been used in a long time judging from the state of decay the facade was in. Broken and boarded up windows, crumbling walls and doors that were hanging off the hinges. They drove up at walking pace and studied the surroundings for any sign of life. There was no light burning, no cars parked. It was too dark to see if there were any footprints ahead but for as far as they could see there were no tracks, tire track or otherwise, leading to or from the entrance.

Without stopping or altering their pace they drove by and up a slope leading away from the village. When they were far enough they stopped the car just off the side of the road where some shrubs hid the car from view.

“Looked abandoned enough.” Gendry whispered.

“Yeah but let’s stay here and check it out for a while, we don’t want to take any chances.”

Gendry nodded.

They took turns studying the building and the surroundings with night vision binoculars from a distance for a good hour.

When it was Gendry’s turn to check the surroundings Javier lit a cigarette. The agent lowered the field glasses and turned to the Chilean. 

“Can I have one?”

“Since when do you smoke?” 

“Since you started talking like you’re my mom.”

Javi shrugged and held out the package. Then lit the cigarette for his partner.

“You reckon we can go now?” Gendry asked taking a drag.

“Let’s wait 30 minutes more.” Javier said with a concentrated look on his face gazing at the old dilapidated building in the distance.

It was obvious it took the younger man a lot of self-control to assent to the proposal but he swallowed all the arguments on his tongue and took another haul of the cigarette. It was not because he was ok with another 30 minutes of not doing anything, but because before he had asked for the thing he had sworn to stay away from, a thought had kept his mind busy. 

At first the taste came as a comfort, something that gave him a familiar feeling, a feeling he had missed for a long time and that now welcomed him back with open arms. A way to feel what time of day it was. But after a couple of puffs he realized that it meant something else, something deeper and more profound; He was starting to lose his self restraint. 

It had been because of the concentrated look on Javi’s face which came as foreign to him. 

After they’d lost Arya, Gendry had seen the Chilean stressed and irritated but he had never seen Javi so tense, a bit anxious even maybe. More and more the feeling that they were _really_ off limits, professionally as well as privately, crept up on him. Of course he had heard how dangerous Mexico was, in particular certain areas. The news of mass graves and tortured, beheaded bodies were commonplace here. Apart from the fact that they were both risking losing their jobs, they were not in a small matter risking their lives. Javier had known the danger before they had set off but had still chosen to back his colleague up, risking both his job _and_ his life. 

A gunshot in the distance flung Gendry back to reality and set both of the men on utter alertness. The echo resonated between the mountains eerily before slowly getting weaker and attenuating until the silence sounded louder than before the shot.

Gendry’s eyes fell on Javi’s hand which was on his weapon. The man’s dark brown eyes gleamed in the light of the moon as they indicated he was trying to pinpoint the source of the shot. 

“It came from there.” Javi said pointing in the opposite direction of where the the old Eld Dorado stood. He gritted his teeth while took his hand off his Glock. 

“Come on cabron, let’s do it now before I change my mind.” 

Before Gendry had fully understood he would no longer have to wait to do what he came for, Javier had already opened his side of the car.

“Don’t turn on the lights.” he hoarsely spoke when they both were seated and the engine started. “Just park her over there on the side.” he said pointing over at the right side of the hotel where it was darkest and a fallen tree would extract their vehicle from view.

Gendry obediently did as he was told. The earnest of the situation they were in and his naivete had become stinging clear to him, but his determination to rescue his partner stopped him from changing his mind and driving past, instead of onto, the narrow path that led towards the hotel ruin.

Javi had been right, where they had parked, the car was invisible from the road. Silently they got out of the rented vehicle, weapons in hand focussed on any sounds or movement. Javi went first after checking the perimeter thoroughly to affirm the coast was clear. Holding out his hand he indicated Gendry should wait. 

Fully focussed, the younger agent waited for the sign and then followed Martell through a side door leading into the west wing of the hotel.

 

It was dark everywhere the light of the torches didn’t encounter an object to reflect off of and on the floor shattered glass and rubble crunched beneath their soles. There was graffiti on the walls and a couple of candle stumps indicated that the abandoned place had been used as some kind of shelter or hide-out. 

Using hand signals Javi indicated that he would check the right part of the hall they had before them and that it was Gendry who should keep an eye on the left. 

Adrenalin pumped through their veins, their pupils getting bigger and their hearing sharper. Without them being fully aware of it they were both as tight as a bow ready to go off at the slightest movement or sound. It was because of this intense focus that Gendry almost pulled the trigger of his Glock when a rat scurried out from under a broken table and disappeared into a dark corner on the opposite side of the hall. 

“Pffffff, jesus!” he breathed, steadying himself on what he thought was a wall, it was too dark to see anything around unless they shone the beam of their torches onto the surface. The slightly moist plaster crumbled under his fingers.

Javier composed himself quickly after the start and kept on moving realizing time was not on their side. The sooner they would be able to clear the area, the sooner they’d be on their way back from this ludicrous enterprise.

They cleared the westerly part of the building and moved across what must have once been the lobby to the opposite side of the dwelling. The moment Javi pushed through the side hung doors, a piercing smell floated in from the other side. 

“Do you smell that?” Javier whispered over his shoulder to the man who was covering him a few steps behind. 

Gendry nodded.

“Fire.

As silently as they could, they moved towards the end of the hallway where the scent was the strongest. The beams of their torches crossed over the wall until they reached a door. The paint of the door had blistered with the heat from inside, the part above it and the ceiling were soot stained. 

Javi tightly clamped his service weapon in his right hand, while his left pressed the torch against his wrist and the weapon, pointing both down towards to the floor. He checked in with his partner who had squatted down at the side of the door, his hand on the knob ready to swing it open.

The tension was clearly visible on Gendry’s face as he nodded curtly, indicating his partner could proceed. 

For a second the boy thought the door was locked but then it cracked open and Javier pushed through with his firearm drawn. 

The seconds of eerie silence that followed were cut by a curse.

“Fuck!”

“Javi?!” Gendry shouted at the distraught tone of the exclamation of his partner.

“No! Waters! Stay outside!”

 

Too late. 

Gendry busted in weapon drawn, ready to shoot at whatever caused his partner to yell out where seconds before he had been extremely cautious. 

In the pale beam of the flashlight Gendry saw something he had not dared to fear. An image that appeared to come straight out of a horror movie, worse than his worry-crazed mind had come up with in the past couple of days. 

Tied to a chair sat a person, a woman judging by shape and size, burned so severely that it was impossible to tell for sure. Head hanging down, arms still tied to the back of the metal chair, skin blotched and blackened.

Gendry stumbled backwards slapping his hand in front of his mouth stifling a cry of horror. 

“Ahhhhhh! No! Nooooo!...No no no no please, no, Javi!”

He turned away in horror but something in him just had to look back. He couldn’t. He couldn’t look at her. Hysterically he started gasping for air steading himself against a wall, stumbling, clawing at the soot stained surface.

Javier Martell stood frozen staring at the wall, gazing into the darkness. Unable to fathom what his eyes had just seen. Finally he snapped out of his state of shock, suddenly realizing they were not safe there. Quickly he stalked towards the sound of his partner retching outside in the hallway. 

Gendry had made it out of the room and was hunched down on hands and knees, crawling around in a delirium-like state.

“Waters…”

“Waters, get up.” 

“Gendry!”

He roughly grabbed the man by his arm and tried to pull him up. 

“We can’t stay here, we have to get backup.”

“No.” Gendry shouted. “We can’t leave her.”

“Waters, we don’t even know that it’s her. Think! We can’t do anything right now.”

\--

Five hours later Gendry was sitting in an heavy chesterfield armchair in the office staring ahead of him but registering absolutely nothing. 

The coffee in his hand had gone cold.

Numb, that was the best way to describe how he felt. As numb as someone who had been beaten senseless. Numb as one who had been in a car crash and found himself broken on the asphalt. Numb as one who had taken too many drugs and was on the cusp of leaving all of it behind.

\---

After many fruitless attempts Javier had finally managed to tear the boy away from the scene. 

“We need to call in a forensic team Gendry! We can’t do anything here and we won’t get them if we mess up the evidence. You do want to make whoever is behind this pay for this don’t you?” 

Getting the ones responsible for this hideous crime was the only argument that could motivate the agent to let his partner escort him outside and into the Nissan.  

\---

“You should try to get some sleep.” Javi tried putting his hand on the boy’s shoulder. 

Gendry’s body jolted at the impact. He had not heard his colleague come in, nor had he heard what he had said to him. 

“What?” he grumbled confusedly.

“Try to get some sleep.”

Gendry slowly shook his head.

“I should have gone after her sooner.” he mumbled defeatedly.

“Come on man, don’t say that. It’s not your fault.” as soon as the words left his mouth Javi realized they would have the reverse effect. 

“It was!” Gendry yelled as he leapt up from the chair toppling it, causing it to fall on its back with a dull crash. 

“It  _ was _ my fault! And yours! I knew it, we should never have let her go like that!”

The younger man’s harsh words made the Chilean wince. As much as he’d like to protest, the boy was partially right; Maybe if they would have gone looking for their field agent sooner, she would have still been alive. Arguments that what had happened was a risk they knew they were taking didn’t subdue the leaden feeling of guilt that relentlessly weighed him down since their discovery. But at least one of them had to stay sane enough to deal with the situation as it lay before them. 

The head of the National Counterterrorism Center had twisted the facts about how they’d come across the discovery. He had lied to to Luwin and the forensic team telling them they had come upon a piece of evidence that pointed to the direction of that particular hotel. A grey lie, he had convinced himself. The outcome was more important than the way to the crime scene.

Professionally agent Waters had a lot to learn but Javier sympathized with the young agent and understood all too well that the young man took it all on himself now. He had been enamoured with his colleague far longer than that they’d been working together and so he had not only lost his partner but also the woman he secretly loved, felt like he should have protected, and ultimately killed in failing to do so. He claimed responsibility for far more than was equitable and now drowned in guilt and self-castigation. The fact the mission had become utterly more complicated now was not even among his concerns at present.

Agent Gendry Waters ferociously paced the dark office, fuming with anger. 

“Look, Gendry.” Javier said as soon as he thought Gendry had calmed down a bit. 

“Go back to your hotel, drink, sleep, do whatever you need to, but call in tomorrow at noon...Okay?”

“Fuck off Javi!” Gendry spat.

“If you afraid I’m gonna kill myself, don’t worry. I won’t. I am going to fucking get the ones responsible for this, do you understand? Even if it costs me my job. I’m going to bring them down one by fucking one.” he spat, wildly pointing his finger at his partner as he ranted. Then abruptly turned and stormed out of the office. 

Javier didn’t stop him nor did he make an attempt to follow the furious man. The boy needed to blow off steam his own way, Javi just hoped it wouldn’t land his friend in more trouble than he was already in.  

He put back the armchair and slumped down in it, rested his tired head in his hands and swallowed... and then, very slowly the thought that maybe he protected Gendry for another reason started to seep in. 

He too wanted to condemn the ones who had done this, because maybe in doing so he would find a way to be able to forgive himself.

\--

It was almost 11.30 when Gendry’s phone rang for the fourth time in a row. This time he did pick up. 

“What Javi? I thought you told me to call in at noon.” he snapped at his colleague who’s number he’d seen in the display. 

…

“Pfff…” he grunted while pinching the bridge of his nose while looking around his hotel room. The place looked like a bomb had gone off. 

“I’ll be there at three okay?”

…

“What? What could possibly be so urgent  _ now anymore _ ?” he said sceptically. “Did you catch the guys who did it?”

“I didn’t think so… What?”

...

“Better... how?”

…

“Okay okay… Yes, I can drive... 

I’m on my way, jesus.”

He angrily hung up the phone and tossed it into a pile of blood stained sheets. He had only been able to sleep for 3 hours. His hand was throbbing, he had a terrible taste in his mouth and his head felt like it was about to explode. 

 

Next to the mirror there was a big dent in the wall where he had repeatedly bashed his knuckles against the plastered surface now smudged with blood. Then he had knocked back some beers and all that he had been able to find in the minibar. He had eventually fallen asleep but had woken up 3 hours later thinking it had all been a bad dream, until he looked at his swollen right hand which was now almost twice the size of his left. 

Gendry had only assented to come to the office because he knew he’d go crazy if he would stay in his suite alone, curtains drawn to shut out the sunlight, to shut out the evidence that life went on, also without her.

Upon walking into the bathroom the terrible sour smell brought back flashes of last night. He had kept seeing her bloated and charred body in front of him regardless if his eyes were open or shut and didn’t know if it had been the image or the guilt that had caused him to slump over the toilet bowl to vomit until he cried. Then he cried until he retched again until finally he decided to beat up the wall. When and how he had fallen asleep he could not recall. What he  _ did _ know is that he had to get out of there.

 

\--

 

He cursed as he pushed against the door of the office with his bandaged hand. One day ago he had come though the same door hungover but hopeful. Today he was only the former. It was like there was lead in shoes as he plodded into the pantry to get a coffee. 

As soon as she saw him, Silvia rose from her chair but Gendry motioned her to sit back down. 

“I’ll get it myself.”

He unhandily poured the coffee into a mug with his left hand all the while frowning deeply. Why was the woman looking at him like that. With a look of...what was it? Anticipation? Without casting her another glance he picked up the mug and left the woman’s workplace.

For a moment he stood still in front of the door of their office. For a moment he closed his eyes and hoped that if he'd walk through the door she would be there and that everything had just been a cruel joke, a terrible nightmare. For a moment he cursed himself for indulging in the childish fantasy. 

He took a deep breath, swallowed, pushed through the door and dropped his coffee. 

The dark fragrant hot liquid splashed onto his shoes and the legs of his pants, he didn’t feel it, he didn’t even notice. All he could do was stare.

 

In the heavy Chesterfield armchair that he had tossed over in his rage a day before sat agent Arya Stark. Pale skinned, smiling and very much alive.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for bearing with me. As you've seen there is no Arya action in this chapter...There was actually almost never going to be any Arya action anymore... But you know...
> 
> What do we say to the God of Death... 
> 
> Not today! ^^
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of this chapter, it helps a lot to know how people perceive it so I can do something with that in the next.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and thanks for your comments, hope you enjoyed it! Get ready for more!


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